


unheavenly creatures

by greenlights_and_rabbitholes



Series: Unheavenly Creatures Duology [1]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Anxiety, Baking, Bonding, Demons, Depression, Devotion, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Familiars, Families of Choice, Family, Greendale, Halloween, Music, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Riverdale High School, Supernatural Elements, Trauma, Witches, demon!hal, witch!Alice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-01-17 04:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 244,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21260546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenlights_and_rabbitholes/pseuds/greenlights_and_rabbitholes
Summary: Alice wants to forget her past in Riverdale. She was a young, lonely, and vulnerable witch who bonded with a malevolent demon named Hal, and their time together resulted in the bloodshed of many of her classmates. The trauma forces Alice to leave Hal and flee from Riverdale. 25 years later, she owns a bakery in Greendale and befriends a young witch named Sabrina Spellman. But when Sabrina refuses her Dark Baptism and is forced to take refuge to Riverdale, Alice panics for the young witch's life. With a new generation residing in Riverdale, old friends to catch up with, and a demon ex-boyfriend waiting to take his revenge, Alice has no other choice but to confront what happened to her in order to stop history from repeating itself.
Relationships: Alice Cooper & Sabrina Spellman, Alice Cooper/Hal Cooper, Alice Cooper/Hiram Lodge, Archie Andrews/Josie McCoy, FP Jones II/Gladys Jones, Fred Andrews/Hermione Lodge, Harvey Kinkle/Sabrina Spellman, Hermione Lodge/Hiram Lodge, Midge Klump/Moose Mason, Salem Saberhagen & Sabrina Spellman
Series: Unheavenly Creatures Duology [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833595
Comments: 4
Kudos: 271





	1. Prologue

It’s quiet here in Greendale; not just the environment, but the people. Everyone in Greendale is respectful of your privacy, and they don’t ask stupid questions. I’m surprised I didn’t come here sooner, considering that it’s close to Riverdale. Yet again, I would rather be anywhere in the world that set foot back in that town.

It’s easy for me to disappear. I’ve been doing it since I was 17 years old. I never graduated from high school, but I did get a degree in the art of disguise. Hiding when necessary. I’ve been called a lot of things over the years. The bakery lady. Miss Alice from the bakery downtown, or just Miss Alice. Aunt Ali, even. I’m fortunate that no one has called me by my real name. Alice Suzanna Smith is a dead name. I haven’t allowed anyone, or myself, to mutter it for the past 25 years. I buried it along with my past in Riverdale.

It’s a tale I don’t wish to tell, but it has to be told one way or another. You see, 25 years ago, when I still was Alice Smith, I had my dance with the Devil. Or someone…..something, that worked in the ways of the Devil. There are these things called familiars: goblins that take form into what their master desires in a pet. Familiars are more known to take forms of animals when a witch is about to have their Dark Baptism. Funny thing is, I had no idea what a Dark Baptism was when I was 16, nor did I have any knowledge about the Church of Night in Greendale, not until my older years. I’ve come to know all the local haunts in that town since I moved there, but those places are nothing compared to what I know. What I’ve seen.

There is a house on Fox Lane, or there was when I still lived in Riverdale. A family used to live there, the Conways, years before I was born and was brutally massacred in the 80s. Rumors spread that a demon resided in that place. Everyone started calling it the Devil’s House. Knowing my skeptical attitude, I thought it was all smoke and mirrors. Yet again, I was still developing my powers without any wise old witch to train me for my Dark Baptism. And I never really had any friends in Riverdale, except for FP Jones. I think about FP every once in a while, but I try not to dwell too much on the past. I want to forget my life in Riverdale as much as I can. Everyone thought I was a Southside slut, a bastard even. I was a pariah wanting to just be noticed for once. I never should have summoned him that night I went to the Conway house on a dare. All because I wanted to prove them all wrong. But this tale is not so much about me. This tale is about my familiar. To witches who know their history on medieval witchcraft, he was known as the Black Hood. But to me, he was Hal Cooper. Of course it wasn’t his actual form; it was what he created for me. A boy that I could befriend, one I could love, give my heart and soul to. And I was so blinded back then that I didn’t know what he could do until the blood had dried on my hands. Sometimes I still find myself scrubbing imaginary blood off at the end of the work day. I did what I had to in order to stop him, to save myself from him. But it was all too late.

I try not to dwell on my past life in Riverdale. I want to leave Alice Smith in that house with him, to erase my memory along with the rest of the town. I like my life here in Greendale. But you know what they say - you can’t take good things for granted. The past will always catch up to you.

Guess I should start taking that advice. Now more than ever.

XXXXXX

** _UNHEAVENLY CREATURES_ **


	2. Unhappy Birthday

** _October 2017_ **

**ALICE**

The shop is always so busy around Halloween. I’m not sure if it’s because of the witch community here, or if it’s these teens are heavily into the supernatural. But I’ve had my fun giving the kids a little scare every once in a while, as long as they’re still willing to buy a slice of pie or any of my other sweets after their reading.

Take for instance - I’m sitting now with this young kid from Baxter High. A football player, really popular. I can look into his thoughts - he treats his fellow classmates like they’re bottomless scum. He likes to get drunk and cause trouble with his fellow football players. Punks like him bothered me growing up, but it’s been a while since I’ve dealt with that sort of behavior. 

“Well?” he asks me, his voice cracking. Got him. I study his palms a few more times, crafting my answer. What will get this kid to learn his lesson? His girlfriend recommended he come into my shop, fearing that he was heading down a bad path. Smart girl. Might as well give him his money’s worth.

“I see….” I begin telling the sucker, “Your life line is a little short. You do have a good life, good career in your sports….but….”

“But what?” he starts freaking out, “Why is my line short? What’s gonna happen to me?” I take a moment, reading the fate line at the bottom of his palm and correlating it with what I can see for the kid. I look him in the eyes, acting as neutral as possible.

“You’re gonna get into a nasty accident in the near future due to your alcohol problems. As a result, you’re gonna get paralyzed and die of a broken heart because you couldn’t pursue your career.” I can see it in his face. He’s shitting himself.

“Oh god.” he panics. “Please tell me you’re full of shit!”

“I wish I was, but that’s what the fates tell me.” I shrug my shoulders at him. “So I suggest you stop partying so much and work on your schoolwork. And take more time to develop your career instead of harassing your classmates. Understand?” He doesn’t have the words to respond to me. He nods his head in fear. I smile.

“How about I sell you a slice a pie before you head out?”

I convince the kid to take a piece of cherry pie that I threw some hints of lemon balm and valerian into earlier this morning. He takes a couple of bites, much calmer now after hearing the news of his “fate”, and leaves. I smile, not because he is leaving for good, but because I saw his real future. He wasn’t going to get paralyzed and die of a broken heart. He was going to end up going to some community college and working for his family at a gas station, and he would grow up to be a cranky old man yelling at his neighbors to get off his lawn. Poor guy, but he kind of needed that push. 

Once he leaves, I start working on my signature peach pie, a fan favorite. Baking has always been a calming remedy for me, and it allows me to use some of my magic in as well, depending on how the customers treat me that day. I’m glad to have started the business since moving to Greendale with the help of Hilda and Zelda Spellman, who run the Mortuary out by the forest. They’ve been so good to me, and they’ve helped me adjust to life here. I’m shocked that no one in the recent years have made me sit down and sign the Book of the Beast, considering that I’m not affiliated with the Church of Night and I still have my powers. But maybe that’s because of my background….

I haven’t opened up much about my past in Riverdale. It’s better to stay buried in that house on Fox Lane…..if there is still a Fox Lane. But how would I know? I haven’t stepped foot in Riverdale in almost 25 years.

I use some magic to play some music in the shop.  _ Dreams _ by Fleetwood Mac is blaring through the speakers, an oldie but a goodie. Stevie’s singing about respecting someone’s freedom but wanting them to remember the past. I start humming along, the lyrics like second nature to me.

_ In the stillness of remembering what you had, _

_ And what you lost…. _

_ And what you had…. _

_ And what you lost…. _

I finish laying the top of the pie over the peach filling, examining my work. Satisfied, I fling the oven door open with my magic and stick the sucker in. I’m so caught up in the song and with my pie that I don’t hear the door chime open. It’s only a matter of seconds before I turn around and practically jump back. On the other side of the counter, a young girl about to turn 16 is staring at me, shivering. Her short blond hair is wet from the mist and rain outside. Her brown eyes looking all doe like. I place a hand over my heart and catch my breath.

“You could’ve given me a heads up, Sabrina.”

“Sorry, Aunt Ali.” she apologizes. I notice her starting to scratch at herself through her redcoat. “I just got out of school and…..”

“What happened to you?” I move around and come to her side of the counter, reaching for her hand. She’s starting to form red patches on her skin, and if not treated, it could turn into blistering. The younger girl rolls her eyes and huffs.

“Nothing, just….I went out into the woods earlier to perform a burial for a bat I killed in my room last night. And the Weird Sisters….they came out of nowhere and hexed me.” That’s not good. I’ve heard some talk of these Weird Sisters from Sabrina; they’re other witches in Greendale, a trio of girls related to Father Blackwood who think they run the Academy of Unseen Arts. She sighs and continues, “I tried to use a counteractive removal spell in the shower when I finished gym class, but I’m not sure if it worked.” Well, of course it didn’t. Hexes like that don’t magically go away easily, counteractive removal spell or not; I pity her. Girls like Penelope Blossom and her clan of River Vixens deserved hexes. But girls like Sabrina….

In a lot of ways, Sabrina is like me. She’s half-witch on her father’s side, half-human on her mother’s. My mother must have been a witch, but I never knew for sure because she abandoned me at the ripe age of 5 years old. Leaving me with my father….a drunken Serpent on the Southside. I was caught between coming to terms with my magic and wanting to fit into the mortal world, just as she is now.

But in other ways, Sabrina is different. I was all alone. I thought I was the only witch in Riverdale….on top of being outcasted at Riverdale High. I was the residential social pariah with only FP Jones, another Southside resident, as my friend. At Baxter, Sabrina has friends, Roz and Susie. She has a boy, Harvey Kinkle, who is crazy about her. I would have killed to have lived a life in Sabrina’s shoes, getting to live with these options with people to turn to for support. But I have to be there for her, since it is her 16th coming up on Halloween. On top of that, I want her to live the best life she can. It’s best for her not to fall down the same path I did. 

“Take it easy for the next few hours, okay?” I lead her to a barstool and sit her down. “I’ll get you a brew that can help treat that hex. It won’t remove it entirely, but it will make the process easier.”

“Thanks, Ali.” she smiles, and I return the gesture before moving behind the counter to my work station. I whip out some of the herbs and milks I need for the concoction, crushing and mixing the ingredients to the texture I need for it to work. I finish making the concoction and pour some into a glass for her. “Here you go, Miss Spellman.” I slide the glass to her, which she immediately takes. “I can give you the rest in a jug if you need it later on. But for the rest of the week, just take plenty of salt water baths and light any reversal candles you have lying around in the house. Your hex should be gone by the end of the week.”

“Alright.” she wipes the corners of her mouth. “Did this ever happen to you?” I raise my eyebrow at her. 

“What do you mean?”

“Did these kind of things happen to you before your Dark Baptism?” 

I stiffen at the question. She doesn’t know I didn’t have a Dark Baptism. Or a book signing. Or a ceremony at midnight. Sabrina doesn’t know about my times as a young half-witch, or any other dark details of my past. “Not that I can remember, sweetie.” I try to keep the conversation going. She doesn’t pick up on my worry.

“What about the whole name part during the Baptism? I think I might go with Edwina Diana. You know…..to honor my mom and dad.” She went quiet. I only heard some wind about what happened to the former High Priest Edward Spellman and his human wife, Diana. They both unfortunately died in a place crash when she was only a baby, leaving her with Hilda and Zelda. All I knew was that my mother disappeared long before my coming-of-age, and my father spent most of his time drunk off his ass with other Serpents at the Whyte Wyrm. While I never had a Dark Baptism, I performed some painstaking dance to initiate into the Serpents per my father’s demand at the ripe age of 13. And that’s where I want to leave it. Sabrina’s lucky she can get her fellow witch peers will get to call her Edwina Diana. All I ever got called was

_ “Hey, Acid Queen Alice!” the football players would snicker at me as I passed by them in my Serpent jacket. They would all laugh, and I would fight back tears.  _

_ It was October 1992, my senior year _ _ . Back then, phones still had cords. Winona still had Johnny. Everything smelled like teen spirit. And, just 25 years before I was Sabrina’s Aunt Ali, I was Alice Suzanna Smith, a girl from the wrong side of the tracks with one big secret. _

_ I didn’t belong with these kids at Riverdale High. All I wanted to do was listen to my music on my cassette tape and practice whatever magic was brewing in me. It was kind of hard when River Vixens like Penelope and Hermione were calling you names behind your back and laughing with their high ponytail friends. I hated being an outcast. I hated my human father for making me join his gang against my will. And I hated my witch mother for abandoning me. Maybe that’s why Hal preyed on me…. _

_ I tried to focus my energy on my academics, I really was smart. But half the time, I couldn’t make myself walk through those doors without people staring or talking about me. One of those days before the night I released him, the bells rang and the halls cleared, but I couldn’t leave. Instead, I found myself sliding down the wall and resting on the staircase, my eyes filled with tears. I squeezed my eyes and rang my fingers through my once darker hair. _

_ I started muttering a blood curse to aim at those boys who mocked me. “Vos omnes ministri odey et destructiones et seratore discorde. Et qui libiter opera facitis et tractibus, quod eat noce.” I repeated it over and over, feeling the hot tears go down my cheeks. After a while, I sniffled and wiped my eyes, unaware of my surroundings. _

_ “Skipping class too, Smith?” his voice caught my attention and I looked up at him. He loomed over me and rested his forearm up against the wall. I snickered. _

_ “Go to hell, FP.” But he didn’t leave. FP never really did. He may have worn the letterman of a football player, but he was a Southsider just like me. He sat down across from me on the staircase, taking in my full range of emotion. _

_ “Did those assholes pick on you again?” he became concerned, “Seriously, Ali. I can go beat them up if they said something to you.” _

_ “You don’t have to keep fighting my battles for me.” I wiped another tear away. He never had to defend me from them, even if they were his teammates. I never knew how FP Jones could tolerate me. But he was the only real friend I had. His father was a gang member, just like mine, and he took most of his time using FP as a punching bag for pleasure. When I heard that FP was a Southsider and his father was an abusive alcoholic, I made a personal promise to keep him safe, even if it meant hexing the daylights out of Old Man Jones. Of course I never shared that with FP, but I did patch him up and allowed him to stay in my trailer for the night. It allowed for us to become closer. _

_ “No. Serpents don’t stand alone.” he stated, which shocked me. FP at the time didn’t want anything to do with the Serpents - he wanted out of there just as much as I did.Yet there I still was wearing that bloody jacket. “Surprised you’re still wearing that to school.” he gestured to my jacket. _

_ “Gotta act tough somehow, Jones.” I teased him, making him laugh. I was happy that he was the only person in that school that didn’t view me as a walking freakshow. Fred Andrews, Tom Keller, and Sierra Samuels were the only other people I could think of, but not as much as him. But he had popularity and a good football career lined up for him. And I was still so lonely. _

_ He stood up and offered his hand to me. “Wanna take an early lunch break to Pop’s?” I sat there for a moment, then I wiped away the last of my tears, grabbed my bag, and stood up with his assistance. _

_ “Sounds good to me.” I replied with a smile. He led us out of the school’s door, out into the streets of Riverdale, heading to Pop’s - I made a mental reminder in my head to use some magic later to fake excused absence notes for the both of us. We ended up spending the remainder of that afternoon in that little diner, talking about horror movies and our plans for Halloween. FP was planning on going to a party that Penelope Blossom was hosting. It was becoming more of a buzz since Hiram Lodge, some new kid in town from a prep school in New York, would be going. Well, he wasn’t exactly new. He showed up spring semester of our junior year, but everyone still acted mesmerized. Well, everyone would go to see this wonder boy from Manhattan. And as for me, just watching movies at home and praying that my father wouldn’t do anything stupid. FP felt bad and offered for me to go, but I declined. I didn’t want people to point me out any further as a monster - especially on Halloween of all nights. _

_“Well, if you change your mind, you let me know.” FP grabbed a french fry and shoved it into his mouth._ _I should have kept my word, my original promise to myself. But that was before Hiram approached me begging for me to come…...because why? Well, back in the day, my father had me act as his little “candy girl” to sell drugs to anyone desperate enough to buy them._

_ FP and I had to part ways a little distance between Pop’s and school, since he had football practice. We fist-bumped it out and I watched him run off in the other direction. I was tempted to follow him back, but I wasn’t particularly in the mood to face those neanderthals I called my classmates. Instead, I headed back in the opposite direction, to what I realized was heading towards Fox Lane. _

_ My music from my tape was so loud and drowning out any sense of worry in me that I didn’t come to my senses of where I was. I looked up and noticed how dead the street was at the time. No one had really lived on Fox Lane since the Conway Family massacre some odd years ago. But the street urged something in me. Something…...someone…..was calling to me. I stopped in front of the Conway home, the little voice whispering to me. It begged me for freedom. For the taste of the light. For the chance to cleanse the souls of the damned. It wanted blood. _

_ I freaked out and ran off. I returned to my trailer on the Southside and drew myself a salt-bath I learned about in some book about witchcraft. In my youth, I had no one guiding me through my magic. I taught myself half of what I could do through books I found in shops on the Southside, and through low-budgeted, poorly scripted horror films. But the magic was flowing through me naturally. And whatever resided in the Conway home….it wanted my magic to set itself free. _

My timer for the peach pie goes off, snapping me out of the past. I rush over to the oven and I’m relieved to find that the pie didn’t burn. I set it out on the counter to cool and turn back to Sabrina.

“You should probably head home before it gets too dark out. Don’t want your aunts harping at me. Again.” I joke with her, pouring the rest of her concoction into a transportable jar.

“Nah. They’re probably too busy harping at Ambrose for flirting with the customers in the morbituary. Again.” She mimics my last statement. I laugh at the comment as I hand her the jar.

“You let me know if you need anything before your birthday, alright?”

“I promise.” She gives me a sad smile. I can see her thoughts as if they were my own. She’s torn between the witch world and the human world. She wants to make her family proud, but she doesn’t want to say goodbye to her friends. Or Harvey. I watch as Sabrina exits the shop, leaving me with my freshly baked pie ready to be sprinkled in powdered sugar and a good luck charm for whoever takes the first bite.

There’s a bird cawing outside but it takes a few minutes for me to register it. After a while, I look out to find a black raven staring at me quizzingly. It tilts its head from side to side. I don’t know what it wants or why it’s looking at me that way. Becoming more creeped out by the minute, I wander over to the area where the raven is and bang on the window. “Get lost!” I yell, the raven jumping back slightly and raising its wings. It caws at me, and this time I truly pay attention to it. A sensation is building inside me, and it’s a notion I don’t feel with normal animals. Is it someone’s familiar? 

I bang on the window again at the raven. It finally takes the hint and flies away. Whatever….whoever….is spying on me, why come here on this day? Why not come in themselves? The whole thing weirds me out, but I try not to let it ruin the rest of my day.

I don’t close up shop until almost 10:30. Some teen stragglers from the movies like to come in and grab some pie and other treats, so I allow them their little pleasures. Luckily, I live right above the shop so I can tend to my work easier. My little apartment complex smells of lavender and vanilla when I open the doors. I’m not particularly hungry so I head straight to bed. It’s quiet here in the nights. Back in my youth, I hated the loneliness and the quiet. Now, it’s a comfort. Whatever I can use to make me forget about what happened in Riverdale is almost a blessing….and a curse. To this day, I still kick myself for going into that house. For releasing the Black Hood and playing the role of his Persephone. For making me put that memory removal spell on the entire town after binding him to that house. For making myself disappear.

I just hope that binding spell is still working.

XXXXXXXX

I’ve gotten used to the idea of Halloween in the recent years. Halloween was never good when I was younger. But watching the little kids come and go with their parents into the bakery has brought me some good spirits over time. Especially since Greendale is practically known for always being the land of Halloween. But it’s not just these younger kids I have to stay in good spirits for.

Today is Sabrina’s Dark Baptism. Her 16th birthday. And her aunts won’t let her attend school so she can prepare for tonight. Luckily since I run my own schedule, I decide to take work off early so I can spend some time with her and Ambrose while Hilda and Zelda rush around later tonight for last minute details for the Dark Baptism. I arrived earlier at Spellman Mortuary around 3 and was lucky to find that Sabrina’s hex had faded for the most part.

“Did the baths and candles just like you said, Aunt Ali.” she explained to me. Hilda made a wonderful dinner for us a bit later, but I could notice the young girl was shifting uncomfortably, not from the hex.

By the time we finish, Hilda and Zelda leave. It’s now just me, Sabrina, and her cousin Ambrose in the house. Sabrina’s upstairs in her room trying on her mother’s dress, and I’m in the living room with Ambrose. I’ve always gotten along with him, considering that he got bound to the place for trying to blow up the Vatican. A rebel and a lover, he loves good music. We’ve bonded over Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie, and Jimi Hendrix. One year for my birthday, he made me a mix CD to play in the shops, and I still have it to put on in the bakery.

“You seem to be in high spirits, Ali.” he comments to me from a corner of the room. “Trying to be optimistic for ‘Brina?”

“I’m trying.” I admit. Do I know how much this night means to her and her family? Yes. But am I of the opinion that Sabrina can have a life outside the Church of Night….just like me? Yes.

There’s a knock on the front door. How did Hilda and Zelda come back here so quickly? I follow the young man out of the living room and watch as he opens the front door. Harvey Kinkle is standing on the other side dressed as a mine worker.

“How clever. You’re dressed as your future.” Ambrose snarks.

“Is Sabrina here?” Harvey asks.

“Upstairs. Why?” The other witch responds wearly, but I can’t stop staring at Harvey. Was he here to take her to a party? One last hoorah before she turns over to the Church of Night? Does Harvey even know…

“I’ll go get her.” I make my decision and announce to the two by the door. Harvey smiles and Ambrose stares at me funny. I shoot the other witch a “I’ll explain in a minute” look as I head up the stairs and towards Sabrina’s room. The door is open when I enter. Sabrina’s sitting on the bed in a slip that’s meant to go under her mother’s dress. She notices me and stands, shaking.

“Harvey’s downstairs.” I tell her. “I’m guessing to give you well wishes before your Dark Baptism.” She blinks at me. Then she laughs, looking as if she’s about to tear up. Something’s off. “Sabrina….”

“I wanted to tell him. About what I was and what I had to do tonight.” Sabrina croaks, her voice going hoarse, “I tried to…..but he panicked. I was scared….I’d never seen him that scared. So I had to wipe his memory of our whole conversation.”  _ Wipe his memory _ . My spine straightens and my heart drops to my stomach. She used a memory removal spell. I feel like I might faint. But I have to stay strong for Sabrina. I place a hand on her dresser to keep me upright and take a deep breath. This is her night. 

“I just want this to be a good night.” Sabrina sighs. “And I feel bad….because I know Roz and Susie wanted to plan this big birthday party for me and go get cupcakes at your bakery this afternoon….” My mind goes back to that boy’s costume. It’s Halloween. And it’s Sabrina’s birthday. Harvey has to be here for a good reason. I never liked going out on Halloween in my teen years. Too many bad memories. But I at least didn’t be held in my house like some hostage. If Sabrina wants to enjoy one last night in the human world…..on her birthday of all nights…..I wouldn’t see a problem with that. As long as Hilda and Zelda are out for the rest of the night. I think it’s time for me to play a little Fairy Godmother in this situation.

“Then you better get dressed. And let me help with your hair.” I smile. “We don’t want to keep Harvey waiting.” Sabrina must have caught on because she’s smiling back at me.

We finish hair, makeup, and wardrobe in the span of 10 minutes. I help smooth out her dress one last time before I guide her down the stairs and lead her over to Harvey. He’s glowing at the sight of her, and her at him. Ambrose joins my side and leans in.

“Aunties are gonna freak if she’s not here when they get back.” he whispers. I turn to him in confusion and he smirks. “And I thought I was the rebel in this household.” He winks and pats me on the arm. He moves over to the younger two. My eyes turn back to Sabrina and Harvey. They look so happy together. So in love. I envy her. No. Alice Smith envies her.

“Go have fun, you rascals.” Ambrose goes to open the door, allowing them out of the house. Sabrina waves me goodbye and I return the gesture. “And Sabrina….” he calls out, “Don’t forget the family get together. At midnight.” he warns and raises his brow. She waves him off and walks out the door with Harvey, hand in hand. I join Ambrose by the doorway and we watch the teens heading out into the dirt road through the woods. To wherever it was they were going. I’m content. Let the girl have a good night. Let her have the life I wanted to have for myself. The life that was far from my reach.

He sighs next to me. I almost forget he was there. “Well….now we wait.” Ambrose heads back into the house into whatever room but I stay out by the doorway. The autumn air is cool. Leaves rustle in the trees and fall onto the ground. It’s deadly silent. I have found comfort in the silence over the years, but tonight….it makes me worry. Something’s off about tonight. I can’t tell if it’s the Baptism or that it’s just Halloween. But something is in the air. Something in my gut is telling me that something will go wrong. Something bad is….

“You coming in or what, Ali?” I hear Ambrose yelling from the living room. I leave my fears outside the house and retreat to the living room. Some 80s music is playing on the stereo and Ambrose is dancing along with a drink in his hands. I need to relax, to get this…..whatever it is, bugging me off my shoulders. I decide to pour myself a drink and flop onto the couch.

“I like that Harvey guy.” he laughs. “Too bad he might have to leave the picture soon…..you know, if Sabrina does sign her name in the Book.”

“Her parents made it work.” I remind him, taking a long sip. And it’s true - Edward Spellman was able to still be the High Priest and be with Diana. They still had Sabrina. They made it work, but it cost them their lives. “Why can’t Sabrina and Harvey? She could….right?”

“Might have to pay a risky price with the Church….but yet again, I’m not too familiar on all that business.” he chuckles and finishes his glass. Whatever song was just playing ends, and a new one starts slowly. I’ve heard this before…. _ wait _ .

“Ahhh….hell yes!” Ambrose laughs and gets into the groove of this song, “I haven’t heard The Smiths in years.” 

_ Wrap her up in the News Of The World _

_ Dump her on a doorstep, girl _

_ This night has opened my eyes _

_ And I will never sleep again…. _

My heartbeat stops at the lyrics. I’m stiff and I want to vomit. But Ambrose doesn’t know any better. He’s just nonchalantly swaying and making the best of this experience.

“You know, I saw them in Liverpool back in ‘86. Had their records for a while and finally….” he continues on but I can’t pay attention. I’m trying my hardest to keep it together, to keep from exploding. This song brings back too many memories. All with  _ him _ .

_ We were sitting in my car after ditching Darryl Doiley’s body in the woods. I was out of breath and wanted to cry. I just wanted to play a simple prank on him, just to get back at him for how he treated me during class. I didn’t want to kill him. _

_ But that was what Hal wanted. Hal, my familiar, was worse than any demon residing in Greendale. He didn’t appear that way to me at first. He only took the form of a human just so he could be with me at school. To be my friend. My lover. My puppet master. _

** _Oh, he said he'd cure your ills_ **

** _But he didn't and he never will_ **

_ That damn Smiths song was playing as he drove. He was giddy….ecstatic. He had Darryl’s blood all over his mouth and chin. He took note in my worried expression and took my chin in his fingers. _

_ “Wipe that frown away, sweetheart. That’s one less Bulldog who doesn’t see you as a queen.” he told me. I couldn’t calm down, though. I just killed one of my classmates….or watched as Hal killed him, I don’t know anymore. It was a gruesome scene. He made me frame it like a bear had mauled him in the woods when he got drunk and decided to go for a late night stroll. That was the story we fabricated, but I still had to bare the truth. I still do now. He let me go and slammed on the gas pedal. He sped off into the night, bopping his head along to Morrissey’s woeful lyrics. My breath rose and fell uncontrollably. What if we got caught? What if someone saw us? What kind of familiar did I summon? _

_ “I didn’t ask for you to kill him, Hal.” my quiet voice shook. I assumed that he took no recognition of my fear after he started driving, but I didn’t want to confirm it. I didn’t want to look him in the eyes. _

_ “Well, think about it! You got your payback…..and I got a meal.” he chuckled gleefully. I looked down at my hands, still covered in Darryl’s blood, and shut my eyes, trying everything not to cry. “Are you afraid, baby?” Hal finally took note in my state of distress. “Are you afraid? Of ME?” I didn’t respond. Of course I was afraid of him. He killed one of my classmates with no remorse in his eyes. Why shouldn’t I be? Another moment of silence between us passed, but Morrissey just wouldn’t shut up. Then, he stopped the car, took my face into his hands, and grimaced. _

_ “No….. no no no. This is only the beginning, Alice.” he growled. I could smell the blood behind that damn smile. I wanted him to let go of me. I wanted to leave. “You have no reason to fear me. Because, you and I? We can start something great together. With your witchcraft and my abilities…..baby, no one can stop us. Ever.” His expression grew with every word, leaving me even more paralyzed. He let out a roar, then pulled me in for a rough kiss. “We. Are. GODLIKE.” _

** _We. Are. GODLIKE_ ** . 

I hear his voice holler and screech in my head, like a broken record-player. The glass slips from my hands and some magic waiting in my conscious seeps out, turning the music off. Ambrose stops and looks at me. He rushes over and kneels down in front of me.

“You alright, Ali?” he approaches me, worried and cautious. He tries to reach out to me, and I flinch. The room is spinning and I can’t breathe. My eyes dart down at Ambrose, almost hesitant to help me. I blink a few times, then I find some strength to stand up.

“Sorry….” I apologize and start to back away, “Do you….do you mind if I go and take a bath or something?” I start rambling, just out of nerves. Staying in his spot, he nods and lets me leave. I turn and leave the living room. I’m making a break for the stairs….no, I’m sprinting. Running to the bathroom. Throwing my back against the door, frozen until my legs give out.

I can hear his voice clear as day in my head. It makes my chest tight and my body shake. I use some magic to draw myself a bath while my knees hug my chest. I could sob right now, the pain hurts. But I force myself to shut my eyes and breathe. It takes a couple of minutes, but I do calm down. I get up from my place on the floor and strip myself out of the dress I was wearing. I sprinkle some salts and herbal remedies into the tub before hopping in. Whatever snake was slithering in me, it’s released in a matter of a few minutes. I hate having these panic attacks. I hate that it takes over my current state of being. But whenever something from my past, like that song, pops up now, I…. I don’t really know how to describe it. I just panic and start to think about him. And that house. And what we did.

I thought familiars were supposed to help you make the best decisions. To provide you comfort. Maybe I was an idiot for letting Hal Cooper out of that house. For letting him take his human form and get to know the people in my cruel life. For letting him inside my body. For allowing him to commit these horrible actions, and making me participate with him. I squeeze my eyes shut.  _ Don’t think about him _ , I have to tell myself over and over like a mantra. I try to focus on other things. What will I bake tomorrow? Who will come into my shop? Is Sabrina okay?

XXXXXXX

I open my eyes and I notice that the water is now cold. And my hair is wet. Did I fall asleep? How long have I been in here? I jump out of the cold water and wrap a towel around myself. I look at the clock on the wall. It’s almost midnight. Sabrina must already be heading towards her Baptism. Ambrose must still be downstairs. He probably thinks I drowned myself. I slip back on my dress and use some spell to dry my hair. I’m running down the stairs hoping that he’s still in the living room. I don’t even see Ambrose until I bump into him.

“There you are, Ali.” he catches hold of me so we both don’t fall over. “I was worried something bad happened to you up there.”

“No. I just…..” I stumble on my words. I didn’t mean to freak out on him earlier, and I hope he knows that. He must have read the expression on my face or read my thoughts, because he leads me back into the living room and sits me down.

“Sorry….about earlier.” he apologizes. “I didn’t realize The Smiths was a trigger for you.” I open my mouth to tell him it’s okay, but my mind is still in a sticky place. I clamp my mouth for a moment, then open again.

“It’s not that, Ambrose. It’s….that song, it….” 

“Something bad happen to you?” he asks. I know it’s a genuine question, but it’s a jab in my brain. It’s like they want me to split my head open and see what my brain has. And I hate it more than anything in the world. I haven’t told Ambrose about what happened to me. I haven’t told anyone in the Spellman family, or anyone else in Greendale. I’ve kept my demons and my secrets to myself for so long. But I trust him. Despite the rebellious behavior, I know he’s good-natured and willing to keep that strong of a secret. And I need something stronger than a salt bath to get this weight off my shoulders. I need to tell someone about this. Someone I know won’t call me crazy or delirious or….

Something’s seeping into my head. I can’t tell if it’s a memory or a vision of what’s happening now. I hear panting. Leaves crunching. Soft crying. And there’s a herd of people behind whoever is running. I blink, trying to straighten my sights out, but I know this isn’t a memory. It’s Sabrina right now.

“Ali?” Ambrose snaps me out. I stand up and head over to the front door, opening it and walking outside. I look out into the woods, my heart racing. Why is Sabrina running? Where is she? Who is chasing her? Ambrose joins me outside and picks up on where I’m looking.

“Is that….” he points and I turn in his direction. A small, frightened figure comes out of the woods in a sprint. She’s covered in dirt. She no longer has her mother’s dress on. There’s a crowd of witches from the Church of Night marching in with torches behind her.

“Sabrina.” I mutter. I move down the stairs and rush down the walkway. Sabrina sees me and sprints in my direction. I pick up my pace and attempt to meet her halfway but she’s getting closer. She runs into my arms and is sobbing. “Sabrina….what…. What happened?” I feel her shaking in my arms as she clings to me tighter. What happened to her? Did she sign her name? What went down in the woods? The new High Priest, Father Blackwood, comes closer to the house with more witches behind him. I hold onto Sabrina and back up towards the house. Ambrose runs over to us and stays back a distance, just as concerned as I am. Sabrina lets go of me and turns to face all of them.

“Chase me all you want! But you won’t hurt me! Or my family!” she yells to all of the approaching witches, making them stop. Ambrose and I turn to each other than back at Sabrina. She continues her speech. “There is another path for me, just as there was for my father and my mother. A third way. And even if there isn’t…. My name is Sabrina Spellman, and I will not sign it away!”

Everything is silent. No one speaks. Not even me or Ambrose. I’m stunned more than anything. She didn’t sign the book. Sabrina didn’t join the Church. What made her run? In the distance, Father Blackwood steps towards us. I grab for her and hold on. 

“A circle of protection rings this house!” Ambrose yells from behind us. “And no witch, save a Spellman, may cross it. Any unwelcome witch that tries shall BURN! So please, go ahead.” No one dares to step forward. Not even Blackwood. He probably knows it’s smoke and mirrors, since I’m standing here with Sabrina. And I would have known if Ambrose did cast a protection spell. Eventually standing down, Father Blackwood shrugs and walks away, prompting the other witches to leave. Hilda and Zelda are the only two of the crowd remaining.

“When did you put a protection on the house?” Sabrina turns to Ambrose. He’s freaking out right now.

“I didn’t. Though I should probably start.” he starts to walk away. The older Spellmans come up the walkway and glare at Sabrina. Zelda can’t even look her in the eye. They both follow Ambrose into the house. Sabrina and I are the only two left outside. I see her lip tremble for a moment, then she latches onto me again, sobbing harder than before.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Ali….” she mumbles into me. “I couldn’t do it…...I couldn’t…..” I’m helpless. I don’t know what to do in this moment. I pity her. I’m worried for her. She chose not to sign away, and now almost everyone is turning against her. I need to stay with her. Now more than ever.

“It’s okay.” I embrace Sabrina with as much warmth and comfort as I can provide. It will have to do for now, these little bits of reassurance, because who knows what will happen to Sabrina or her family after tonight.

XXXXXXX

They’re putting Sabrina on trial. We don’t know when it is, but it will be Judgement Day for us all. The result of her not signing her name in the Book of the Beast may cause her to lose her powers. And it’s going to affect everyone involved with her. Maybe even me. 

It’s been a couple of days since, what would have been, the Dark Baptism and Zelda won’t mutter a word to Sabrina. The young girl has been staying with me above the bakery. She won’t stop talking about it. She’s scared to even go back to school for the rest of the week because of it.

“I made a mistake.” she would say over and over. She shouldn’t have to worry, she should move on. Believe me, I’ve been through worse. But I have to be strong for her.

“We’ll get this figured out.” I tell her when I’m working on some pastries downstairs. She’s sitting on the other side of the counter twirling her straw in her drink.

“Aunties won’t even say a word to me. Ambrose is the only one at least trying….but it’s not much.” And I know he has. Since that night, he reached out to me to make sure that I was okay. And since Sabrina’s been staying with me, I’ve given him some updates. He and I have both agreed that Sabrina and her aunts need to talk this out while we await for the news on Sabrina’s trial.

“They have to start acknowledging your presence at some point.” I remark with a huff. “They can’t go on ignoring you forever.”

“What if I cause them to lose their powers if the trial doesn’t go well?” she gets quiet. I turn to her and notice her head is hanging for a brief moment. Then she looks back up at me. “What if your powers get taken too?”

I almost drop the dough in my hands. My heart sinks. I set the dough down and take Sabrina’s hands into my own. She doesn’t need this guilt consuming her youth.

“Nothing is going to happen to me, okay?” I speak sternly. Sabrina doesn’t respond, she just stares at me. I sigh and continue, “Or your aunts. Or Ambrose. We will find a way to help you when your trial comes. But….” I pause, thinking of what to say. In all honesty, I have no clue what will happen to me or Sabrina’s aunts. We could rot or get excommunicated. Anything, really. But that’s worse case scenario. Right now, I need to be optimistic and hopeful. She’s young, she has friends and a boy who loves her, she can have a good life. That is if the Church of Night lets her stay human.

“But….I want you….” I have to choose my words carefully, “I want for you to enjoy your life as it is right now. With Roz and Susie. And with Harvey. Enjoy it while you can.” And I mean it. I want Sabrina to live the life I’ve never had. The youth I never got to maintain.

“I want to. More than anything.” Sabrina squeezes my hands. “But I want to be with you guys too. Why can’t I have the power  _ and  _ the freedom?” I don’t know how to respond. And it’s a question I’ve even asked myself over the years. How am I free from the Church yet still have my powers?

“I wish I knew, honey. I wish I did.” I give her a sincere look. She frowns slightly. She frees her hands and takes a sip from her drink. This whole ordeal is breaking her. Zelda and Hilda need to stop dragging her through the dirt like this.

“What?” Sabrina takes note in me watching her. I wipe my hands on my apron before taking it off.

“When you’re done, grab your things. We’re going to have a nice little chat with your aunts.”

We arrive back at the Spellman household in 15 minutes. The November air settles in as we make our way up the stairs. Ambrose is sitting on top of the little fence surrounding the porch and sees us.

“Ali! ‘Brina!” He hops down and greets us. “You’re back….”

“Where are they?” I immediately cut in. Ambrose steps back, slightly afraid. I march into the house with Sabrina behind me and slow my pace before entering the kitchen. I peer in - Hilda’s cooking something while Zelda’s at the table smoking and reading her newspaper. Sabrina slips in from behind and approaches Zelda. She sits down, hoping to get the older witch’s attention. Zelda glares, then brings the newspaper up, blocking Sabrina from her view. 

“You can’t ignore me forever, Aunt Z.” Sabrina huffs. “I know what I did brought shame onto the family….”

“Shame?” Zelda pipes up. She sets the paper down and leans back in her chair, holding her cigarette in her hand. “You embarrassed us in front of the entire Church of Night. Including Father Blackwood. And now you’re heading off to trial….”

“If they ever confirm her trial, dearie.” Hilda pipes in from one area of the kitchen. Zelda darts her eyes at her sister, and for a moment, I feel awful for Hilda. Zelda turns back to Sabrina and takes another puff of her cigarette.

“Well, since you’re here now, we need to discuss the details on your arrangement.”

“My arrangement?” Sabrina raises her brow. I’m just as equally unsettled listening to the conversation. I shoot Ambrose a look of confusion and he shrugs.

“The community for the Church here in town is still…..disturbed by your course of action. And since we have to wait until the confirmation of your trial…..” she pauses, taking another long drag, not even looking Sabrina in the eye.

“What? Aunt Zelda, what does that mean?” The older woman at the table blinks. Then, she finally looks her niece in the eye.

“We can’t guarantee that you’ll be safe to stay in Greendale with those…..others around.” The girl is stunned into silence, and so am I. They’re making her leave Greendale? Unable to keep my silence, I finally pipe up.

“You’re making her leave?” I throw out. “Where do you expect her to go, Zelda? Please, tell me!” My anger is rising, but at this point I don’t care. This is Sabrina’s life on the line. Zelda huffs at me and rolls her eyes.

“It’s not temporary, Alice. She’ll be close by.” I grow quiet.  _ Define close by _ , my mind screams. But I don’t need to ask - she gives her answer. “I have a contact in Riverdale that is willing to help you adjust for the time. You’ll stay there until your trial is underway.”

I stop breathing. I almost fall over in the kitchen.  _ No. Not Riverdale. _ Sabrina could stay anywhere. She could stay with Harvey or Roz or Susie or anyone else from her high school. She could stay anywhere…..but not in goddamn Riverdale. I can’t tell if I’m terrified or angry or confused or a combination of all these emotions. I have so many burning questions for Zelda. What makes you think Sabrina will be safe in Riverdale? Who will she stay with? Who is your contact? WHO ELSE IS A WITCH IN RIVERDALE AND HOW DID I NOT KNOW?

“Riverdale?” Sabrina mutters, breaking the silence and my racing thoughts. “As in….Baxter High’s number one enemy, Riverdale?”

“It won’t be that bad, dearie.” Hilda stops her meddling in the kitchen and wanders over to her niece. “Maybe you can get a fresh new start and...make some friends.” I know she means it with kindness, but Sabrina does not look happy. She stands up and faces Hilda.

“I  _ have _ friends here!” she barks. “I have the chance to be someone….you can’t just send me away like this!”

“It’s set in stone, Sabrina.” Zelda rises as well, her voice stern and cold. “You’re leaving and that’s final.” I feel so helpless standing there watching this argument go down. I want to protect Sabrina at all cost, as if she were my own daughter. I don’t want to watch her life get thrown away only for her to find her way to Riverdale, to that house. To  _ him _ . 

A nasty thought comes to me. I have to go with her. To keep her away from Fox Lane. To make sure she doesn’t set him free.  _ Don’t say anything, Alice _ , my mind warns me immediately, but my mouth already jumps ahead.

“Well you’re both out of your minds if you’re sending her to that place alone.” I speak up, catching the women’s attention. I should have kept my mouth shut, but it’s too late. I come over to the table and take a deep breath, glaring at Zelda. The words slip from my mouth, “If she’s going to Riverdale…..then I’m going too.” Hilda gives me a sad smile. Zelda raises an eyebrow at me. Sabrina comes over to me, concerned.

“Ali….”

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.” I continue, the memories of my youth coming back to me. But I have to do this. I have to do it for Sabrina. “I can find someone to cover for me at the bakery. Just…..don’t send her to Riverdale by herself. Let me go with her.”

“How kind.” Zelda addresses me dead-pan. “But what makes you think you can watch over Sabrina in Riverdale?” I stare at her in silence. How do I even respond? Is it a good time to finally admit what happened to me? Or is it better just to….. No. I have to face my demons one way or another. And I’m tired of running.

I exhale and respond, “Because out of all of us in this kitchen…..I’m the one who grew up Riverdale. Spent half my life there. So, I guess that makes me an expert on how to get around.” I want to say more, but I leave it at that. It’s enough for Zelda to nod at me, a sign of confirmation.

“Then it’s settled.” she confirms for me, “You and Sabrina leave for Riverdale. Tomorrow night.” She turns to Sabrina and, for the first time I see, she gives her niece a mournful look. “You might want to say your goodbyes to those….mortals you call your friends.” The conversation ends there. A cry rings in the air, and I stand there helpless as Sabrina runs out of the room. I try to call after her, head off in her direction, but it’s too late. She’s already run off. 

“Give her a few, Ali.” Ambrose reassures me. “Just needs to process it all.” He pats my shoulder and leaves the kitchen. Behind me, Zelda returns to smoking and reading her newspaper, and Hilda continues cooking. I stand by the doorway, my heart sinking not only for Sabrina…..but for myself. And what I have to do.

XXXXXXXX

I flip the sign on the door so it says “CLOSED”. I’ve been dreading this day since the talk at the Spellman’s house yesterday. I’m hoping for the sake of Sabrina that Riverdale has changed for the better since I disappeared. I hope that maybe the town has gotten some sense of what it actually means to be a good person. And I hope…… I hope that Hal has not preyed on any other person in Riverdale to free him. Just as long as Sabrina doesn’t find her way to that house.

I head back up to my apartment and stare down at my half-packed luggage. I have almost my entire wardrobe and some candles packed in there. I’m considering bringing my baking supplies, but would it be too much? Would I even get work in Riverdale for the short amount of time I’m there with her?  _ Stop, Alice _ , I mentally command myself.  _ Be strong. _ And I’m trying, I really am. I sigh and continue. I don’t know how much time has passed, but now my bags are all packed and it’s starting to get dark out. I head down the steps one last time, walking out of my little bakery, my home for the past few years, and head out into the world.

Sabrina is waiting for me on the steps of her house when I pull up into the Mortuary. She stands up slowly as I approach her. She has two bags on each side of her, tiny of course, but I’m hoping it’s enough to hold her over for the time we have to be there. She’s nervous, and I can tell, because I’m feeling the exact same way.

“Got everything you need?” I check in with the young girl.

“I think so.” she nods. “We should get going. It’ll be harder to drive if it’s too dark out.” She grabs her bags and moves past me. I look up at the looming building, absorbing its dark nature. It’s silent tonight. Are her aunts or cousin not going to come out to say goodbye to her? Granted, no one did when I left Riverdale. Not even FP.   
I begin to follow Sabrina down the dirt path when the door opens behind us. “SABRINA!” Ambrose comes running after us. Sabrina drops her bags on the ground and acknowledges her cousin. He stops in front of her and I notice that he has something in his hand. Some sort of necklace. “This belonged to your father.” I could hear him whisper to her, “He had this kept here before he left on his trip to Italy with your mum.” I came over closer to get a better look at this necklace, but I’m still too far away. The necklace drops into her hand. “I’ve put a summoning spell on it, so if you ever have trouble, use this and one of us will get to you. Okay?” Sabrina looks him in the eyes and nods. I see his lips tremble. The two embrace and I swear I can hear her quietly sobbing.

“Hang in there, cousin. You’ll be home soon.” The two break their hold, and he gives her hand a quick squeeze. Ambrose turns to me and extends his hand out to me, which I take. “Take care of her.”

“I will.” I respond. He nods and heads back into the house. I watch him disappear into the Morbituary, the darkness consuming everything again, and I turn back to Sabrina. I catch up to her and grab one of her bags. 

“You want me to take you to see any of your friends? Harvey?” Her gaze becomes distant. A lone tear streams down her cheek. She glances back up at me and looks wounded. 

“I told them I was transferring due to family troubles. But….but I….” she goes quiet. My heart is breaking for her. She has to leave this life behind against her will….. And I thought I went through worse. A motherly instinct kicks in me, and I cup her face with my free hand, trying to keep my emotions together. Not saying anything, I pull her in and hug her. She clings to me and I can feel her tears on the fabric of my dress. 

I don’t like getting close with people, not after what happened. I try to make my connections short-lived, keep people at arms-length. But I’ve known Sabrina as long as I have lived here in Greendale. She and her family, as self-centered as they are, welcomed me here, and she sees me as part of the clan. In a way, Sabrina is the closest thing I have to a family. And I don’t know how I would react if something more horrible were to happen to her. She needs me in her life, and in a way, I need her too.

After a while, she frees herself from me, grabs her bag, and heads over to my car. I help shove her stuff in the back seat of the vehicle. I wait for a moment before I turn on the ignition. It’s quiet in here, and I want to put on the radio or one of Ambrose’s CDs or something. Anything, really, to drown out these memories.

“You said you lived in Riverdale, right?” Sabrina croaks. My eyes widen as I face her. She blinks up at me. “So how did you end up here? What made you leave?” I stare out the windshield, paralyzed. I have no idea what to even tell her. I want to tell her the truth. I need to tell her. She needs to know about that house. About him. Just not now.

“Let’s just say I have bad blood there.” And I start driving.

It takes us about an hour to drive into this town I used to call home. My heart is racing with every mile. I’m tempted just to turn around and drive back. I’m tempted just to go into a different town all together. But I can’t go and betray Hilda and Zelda. They’re relying on me to look after Sabrina. And I want to find out whoever this contact is that Zelda mentioned.  _ Just until the trial _ , I have to remind myself.  _ You’re only here until the trial _ . I hear Sabrina fumble with the radio, twisting the dial to find some music. Stevie Nicks is singing her heart out to  _ Edge of Seventeen _ .

She looks out ahead and points to an area in front of her. “It’s official. We’re in the Town with Pep.” I look out and see the sign welcoming us to Riverdale. I grit my teeth and my body shakes. I can’t tell if I’m speeding up or slowing down. The concept of time for me is going out the window. I can’t look at this anymore. I shut my eyes and drive past. We’re officially in Riverdale. The town with pep and a former life I want to forget.

_ Welcome home, Acid Queen Alice _ , a voice stirs in my head. It’s his voice….or maybe it’s someone else’s. Someone familiar that I can’t put my finger on. Would his spirit even know I’m back in town? Is he rattling a storm in that house waiting for me to set him free? To have him come get his revenge on me? My head is spiraling, and I almost lose my focus on the road ahead of me. I try to focus on what Stevie is saying in her song.

_ I went today maybe I will go again _

_ Tomorrow _

_ And the music there it was hauntingly _

_ Familiar _

“Were you excommunicated from your witch community in Riverdale?” Sabrina’s voice pulls me back into reality. I turn to her every so often while trying to keep my eyes on the road. “Did something happen to your family?”  _ If you only knew, Sabrina _ , I think to myself.  _ If you only knew what really happened to me _ ….

“I was never part of any witch community here…..” I begin to explain to the best of my ability without mentally losing it, “I was only seventeen, Sabrina. I was on my own. I had no friends….” No, I had FP. But he probably won’t remember me anyway. But maybe he will….. I couldn’t bring myself to put the entire memory removal spell on him. I only wiped away the memories of Hal, and that I was a witch. He didn’t get the treatment like everyone else here. Maybe I should have, considering….

“So what was it, then?” Sabrina keeps trying to pry answers out of me. I open my mouth then close it, not knowing how to respond. I’m so caught up in my train of thought that I don’t notice the deer ahead of me. It’s only after Sabrina grabs my arm and yells for me to look out that I panic. I swerve in attempt to not hit this damn deer and slam the brake. The car stops and there’s a loud thump. My heartbeat is out of control now, I’m panting. I put the car in park and check Sabrina. She’s okay, that gives me relief. But I’m not sure if the deer is. There’s blood on the windshield, and it’s slightly cracked.

“I’ll be right back.” I yell over Stevie and get out, leaving Sabrina in the car. I move slowly, the headlights blaring out in front of me. I look down and my mouth hangs open. The deer is twitching on the ground. There’s a gaping wound in its chest, blood is coming out, and it’s on the verge of dying.

Great. First night back in Riverdale and I already kill a deer. Just my luck. I sigh in frustration and kneel down. Might as well make some attempt to bring this deer back to a walking state. I hover my hands over this thing and begin reciting a healing spell. The words flow out of my mouth with every bit of magic I can provide to this poor creature. I’m caught up in my hymn…. It’s only a short amount of time before I hear a dark bellowing laugh from the distance. I stop for a moment, glancing out into the wilderness beyond me. Nothing to worry about. I get back into it. The laughter picks up again, becoming louder. More ominous. I realize too late that the laughter is not coming from the woods. It’s coming from what’s under me. I glance down and see the deer shift its position. It looks up at me and grins. My mind is just playing tricks on me, but it’s real. I blink a few times, then the last time, I become paralyzed. The deer is no longer the deer. It’s him.

“Hi, Alice.” this manifestation speaks to me in his voice. I can’t speak, I can’t cry out for help. I’m trapped, my mouth hanging open, my eyes struggling to absorb the sight in front of me.

“Ali?” Sabrina calls out but I can’t move. “Alice! What’s happening?” I stay there with my eyes glued on him. He repositions himself and now he is standing over me.

“Did you forget about me, baby?” he grimaces, his expression becoming more sinister. “Because I certainly haven’t forgotten about you.” He lunges at me, his hands wrapping around my throat. 

“ALICE!” Sabrina screams from the distance.

He pushes me down to the ground and hovers over me. I can’t breathe with his hands on me, I can’t fight back, I can’t place any spells to make this stop. I’m stuck here gasping for air. My vision is blurring. I can’t tell if he’s there or not anymore. I can’t tell what is real and what isn’t. And Sabrina is still screaming.

I see my life flashing before me…..No. One memory in this moment. When it all began.

_ It was cold out. My heels clicked on the pavement. I was naive for taking on this dare. Ignorant, really. My teeth chattered uncontrollably, my jacket wasn’t doing much to keep me warm over my simplistic Halloween costume, and I just wanted to go home. But not in that moment. I didn’t want to go from being Acid Queen Alice to being Alice the Coward. Especially not under Penelope’s reign. Maybe even Hiram’s too. _

_ I stopped in front of that house. It was dark and empty on Fox Lane. I felt like I was the only living soul there. But that voice from earlier, the same one calling to me, I could hear it from outside the house. Maybe it was just Marty Mantle or some of the other jocks from school playing a prank on me. _

_ “Alright. Let’s get this over with.” I muttered to myself and headed up the stone path. My footsteps sounded like waves crashing violently into walls of stone. That little voice in my head grew louder the closer I came to the front door. I stopped for a moment, glancing behind me to make sure no Bulldog goons from the party had followed me. I turned back to the door, taking a long, staggered breath. _

_ I pushed the door open, listening to it creak. The house was empty and cold. Its darkness was overwhelming, a sensation I didn’t know how to handle at the time. I hesitated for a moment, then I walked in. I was engulfed into this dark world the more I walked in; the door blew shut behind me. “Very funny, guys.” I yelled out into the nothingness. I can’t believe I actually thought it was a genuine prank being pulled at the time. But yet again, I didn’t know any better. Nothing responded back to me. The silence was unsettling. I really wished there was someone there to keep me company. _

_ I walked into what was the family’s living room and knelt down. I only knew of a few summoning spells at the time, still practicing my summon spell for a familiar. I learned about it from some shop lady on the Southside just days after I first stopped by this house. I figured at the time that if familiars were supposed to be guides, maybe it was time I needed one. Maybe they could help me with my issues. I didn’t have a bell or a wooden stick on me, but I had to make due with what was available. So I exhaled and began my chanting, drawing symbols in the dust on the floorboards. _

_ “Spirits of this house, I pronounce my intentions to thee. Come forth and seek me, and equal we will be.” Something creaked and crawled, startling me. But I had to keep going. “Not master and servant, but familiar to familiar, to share our knowledge….” the creaking became louder, “our spirit, and our traits.” I felt like a large animal would bust through the house and murder me. I recited the last line rushed and afraid, “And now, spirits, we will wait.” I clamped my mouth shut, the silence consuming everything once more. I waited a few minutes for something to happen. Nothing. “Just what I thought. Waste of time.” I muttered. I got up and was about ready to leave. _

_ A gust held me in my place, coldness overcoming my body. The lights, which were shut off when the house went under and lost power years ago, flickered on and off. Something was swirling in the air, I didn’t know what at the time. That thing, whatever it was, formed one cohesive being on the staircase, its eyes glowing in the dark in front of me. It directed its voice at me. _

_ “Alice…..” it spoke to me, the same voice from my head. “You called for me…..and I came.” It shapeshifted in front of me, I couldn’t tell what. What was it forming into? A deer? A bear? A…..a human? Could familiars take the form of humans? One single light flickered then went out. The familiar stepped out in front of me, in its final form….it took the form of a man. A teenage boy. He had short blonde hair and blue-green eyes. His face was soft, yet there was something that made him look older. He smiled at me. A smile that I was so easily fooled by. _

_ “Are you supposed to be my familiar?” my voice cracked. He didn’t say anything to me. He only just stepped closer into me. “Did Hiram and those other kids pay you or something to come out here and….” I stopped. I wasn’t sure at the time what it was, who he was. He silently shook his head. _

_ “Don’t be afraid of me, Alice.” he replied, his voice was angelic. “I came on my own accord. To help you.” And he smiled that damn smile again. My heart fluttered, rookie mistake on my part. He turned to the door and it opened on its own. _

_ “Okay, definitely not a Bulldog goonie.” I mumbled to myself. He began to head out the door, then faced me again. _

_ “You want to leave? They didn’t say you had to stay here the whole night, did they?” he raised his brow at me and smirked. I found myself smiling back at him. Maybe this really was my familiar. I raced over to him and we walked out together. _

_ “So…..what do I call you?” I asked as we made our way out of the house and down Fox Lane. _

_ “I’ve been called many things over the years, Alice. A lot of nasty names which are inaccurate of my character. But…..you can call me Hal.” _

I was an idiot back then. And I’m an idiot for coming back here. And he’s out, pinning me to the ground, choking me…. No. No, he’s not here. He’s still in that house. There’s no hands on me. There’s no one over me but Sabrina screaming my name in a panicked state.

I’m not being choked. I’m having a seizure.

XXXXXXXX

** _End of Chapter One_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....what do we think so far? I can't wait for you all to read the rest! Also, this fic has some chapters up on Wattpad, so if you came from there, please don't spoil anything in the comments! Thank you, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!


	3. Do I Know You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We're back! Have a good time reading yal!

**SABRINA**

It’s taking Aunt Ali a long time to revive that deer. I don’t know if she needs help or if it’s the Riverdale atmosphere. I still have so many questions for her regarding her life in this town. But my thoughts are blurred out by Stevie Nicks on the radio. I can hear her softly murmuring the spell, but then she stops. Worried, I get out of the car and see her frozen in her state.

“Ali?” I call out to her, but she’s not responding. She wheezes for a moment, not even noticing me. “Alice, what’s happening?” I start panicking, not sure of why she’s acting this way. Then, she falls over. Her body is shaking violently and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

“ALICE!” I scream and run over to her. I collapse onto my knees, grabbing for her head. It’s rattling uncontrollably against my hold. I’m crying, I’m freaking out for Ali. What can I do? I start to murmur a calming spell. I know it probably won’t work but it’s worth a try. I have to get help.

I use my telekinesis to lurch the car closer to us. Ali isn’t shaking as violently now, but her seizure won’t stop. Using more of my magic, with tears in my eyes, I carry her as best as I can into the passenger’s seat, hopping into the driver’s seat myself. I barely know how to drive - well, Harvey let me practice with his truck a couple of times. But Aunties won’t let me get a license, don’t want me associating too much with the humans now. I wish Harvey, or Roz, or Susie were here with me to help. They would know what to do if someone was having a seizure. But I can’t take Ali to the doctors. I don’t know where I am or where I’m driving? Where can I go? WHERE CAN I GO?

I carefully drive down the highway, my heart flying out of my chest, as I look back and forth between the road and Ali. “Hang on, Ali. I’m gonna get help.” I whisper to her shaking body and my throat aches. I remember the charm hanging on my neck that Ambrose gave me. Part of me wants to use the necklace to signal for help. Part of me wants to drive back to Greendale. But how would I get back without Ali guiding me? And would Aunties, or even Ambrose, allow me to return? I wrap my fingers around the charm, hoping for some sort of answer to appear out in the dark roads of Riverdale.

I keep driving for a few minutes, looking for any sort of living bodies in this town. I’ve heard about some of the hot spots in Riverdale from when Harvey and his brother, Tommy, would visit for a weekend. There’s a diner called Pop’s, some movie theater with a French name, and of course, Riverdale High. But how far away are they from where I am on the highway?

I don’t know where exactly I am, but I see a sign a couple of hundred feet away. Sunnyside Trailers. A TRAILER PARK. There’s a few trailers with their lights on. A fire is glowing somewhere in the distance. PEOPLE. I quickly turn into the trailer park, feeling the steering wheel burn in my hands, and pull into the lot’s driveway. Ali’s still shaking, no matter how hard I try to use my magic non-verbally to stop her seizure.

I get out of the car and feel the cold air hit me. “HELP!” I’m screaming at the top of my lungs. I call out again, but no one in that park is responding to me. Is anyone even home? My breathing becomes stagnant. I run over to Ali’s side of the car and open her door. Her body is still shaking as I hold her in my arms. I begin chanting my calming spell again, but my emotions are too sporadic to keep a coherent chant going.

There’s a woman coming over to me. I don’t see her at first, since I’m focused on Ali. She’s coming closer to me, I can hear her footsteps. I look up at the sound and stand up to face her. This woman has dark hair and she’s wearing some diner uniform. She has three stars on the side of her eye. “Everything okay out here?” she says to me. I panic for a moment. I don’t know what to tell her. Instead, I run over to her and grab her arm.

“Please…” my voice is desperate. I take her over to where Ali is in the car. “I don’t know…..I don’t…..” I try to explain. But this woman gets the hint right away. She turns to me and takes me by the shoulders.

“Get her out of the car and keep her on a flat surface, okay?” this stranger addresses me calmly. I nod and she lets go of my shoulders. I take Ali and slowly pull her out of the car. The woman is running back into her trailer. She’s calling for someone, I’m not sure who but it’s an unusual name, only two letters or something…. I try to focus on my spell again. Her head isn’t shaking as violently anymore, which is good. I finish the last of the spell choking out tears. She stops shaking. Her eyes flutter open. She’s groaning. “Ssss…..sssa…..” Is she trying to say my name?

“It’s okay, Ali.” I whisper to her, forcing myself not to cry anymore. “Help is coming. Just stay with me.”

The woman comes back outside, and this time someone else is with her. A grown man with dark hair, a scruffy beard, and a leather jacket. He comes over next to me and kneels down. “You got a name, kid?” his voice is scratchy yet smooth. I tell him my name, what happened, and he nods before looking down at Ali. I try to talk to him more, but he is no longer paying attention to me. He’s been staring down at her for a while…..almost like he knows her. Does she know him? Beneath me, she tilts her head up at this stranger.

The man reaches out for her face, his fingers moving slowly across her cheeks. She’s still in a violent daze. She’s struggling to breathe, but her eyes are still on him. She takes a moment to process his face, his hold….

“FP?”

She passes out in my arms, and I look back up at this man, FP. His eyes are getting wet. How does Ali know him? He slowly turns his head up to me, panic starting to set in. Does he think that I’m her daughter? He fights to blink back tears as he returns his gaze to Ali. Seconds later, he scoops her up from my hold and stands up with her in his arms. I stand up and watch him go away, carrying her into the trailer, not saying a word.

I have never felt so helpless. I’ve never seen Ali in such a state before. I turn to the woman next to me…..his wife? She meets my gaze, and she looks just as confused as me. And just as worried.

“You better come inside, sweetie.” the woman comes over and gently places her hand on my shoulder, leading me towards her trailer. I don’t fight back, I just allow her to guide us inside. Before we go up the steps, I glance around this trailer park once more. Was this where Ali grew up? Did she ever mention anything to me about her childhood beyond her early days of witchcraft? Did she bring up where she lived and….and how exactly she knows who this man is? What happened to Ali that caused her to leave Riverdale all of those years ago?

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

I can barely remember what happened after the deer and seeing Hal. Everything’s a blur. But something’s screaming out to me in my mind’s eye. I can vaguely see Sabrina holding my body outside some place in Riverdale. A brunette with a long face. And a man…..

FP. I saw FP. But was it really him? I can’t remember because I must have passed out. But I swear I saw his face. I never forgot his face, or his eyes, or anything about him. He was the one good thing Riverdale had to offer. And maybe he still is.

_FP Jones never knew about my witchcraft, only because I never wanted to scare him away. But there was one night when I came close to telling him everything. It was the night of Hermione’s car accident. I didn’t know where to go or where to run, but I had to stay away from him. Hal couldn’t find me and use me for such dark things again. I was done with him._

_I stumbled into the trailer park, wheezing and sobbing, my hands covered in blood. My hair had gotten in my face from the sweat and the tears. I stumbled to his trailer and banged on the door. He had to come. He had to help. But what if he didn’t? What if he saw the truth and turned me away? I was foolish to think of coming here….so damn fool---_

_He opened the door. He took in my presence from the darkness outside. “Ali….” he started then noticed my state. “Holy shit….what….what happened?”_

_“FP, please…..” I mumbled, trying my best not to break down in front of him. I didn’t have to explain much more; he grabbed me and brought me into his trailer. He sat me down on the couch and turned on the lamp. He examined my face then my hands._

_“Did something happen with you and Hal?” he won’t stop looking at my hands. I cringed at the name. FP only knew of Hal as the new boy….my boyfriend. So, of course he didn’t know that Hal was actually my familiar. Or my demonic curse._

_“No….” I stammered. It was actually between me, him, and Hermione Gomez. My mind’s flashing to the car. The pedal slamming down too fast. What I had to do to save her. “I did something bad, FP.” I tried to explain. “I…..I should have told you sooner. Maybe something could have been different….” I had to stop myself. He couldn’t know the full truth. Not yet. FP grabbed me and stood me up. I couldn’t tell if he was horrified or angry or worried, but there was a look in his eyes…..it still puzzles me to this day. But it was a look that I’d never seen before._

_“What did he do to you, Ali?” his voice went deep. He was talking about Hal. I started gasping for air, not knowing how to respond. My tears became heavier the longer breaths I took. “Ali….” he repeated, but I cut him off._

_“You don’t understand what I’ve done, FP!” I wailed, my voice breaking. “You don’t…..you don’t understand what I’m responsible for….” I stopped speaking entirely. My sobs filled in the gaps of our silence. He took my face into his hands and held me there for a minute. I thought that we would kiss. I wouldn’t have minded it, but it would have been too soon. Instead, he pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me, bringing some comfort. I responded to the hug and allowed myself to bury my face into his shoulder._

_“It’s gonna be okay….” he told me. I could hear him falling apart too. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. It’s okay….” We stayed like that for a while._

_I wished everything was okay. I wished that I could have stayed with him went everything went wrong. FP wanted to go off and become a professional football player. He wanted a scholarship for school. I don’t know what became of FP once I left. I hoped that he did make it out of that town and went off to pursue his dream. But_

He’s here. I saw his face. In this….. I don’t know what time it is or where I am. My brain snaps awake and my eyes flutter open. Everything is grey…..the sky, the wall, the bedsheets. It takes me a moment to realize I’m in someone’s bedroom. I make an attempt to sit up, but my vision spins. My head feels dizzy. A hand grabs for me. Keeps me steady. There’s someone here.

“Hey, you’re alright.” this person speaks to me. I’m still trying to process my sense of location. Where am I? Who is this next to me? Where is Sabrina? I finally look at this person. It’s a woman kneeling in front of me. She looks roughly around my age, maybe a bit older, or younger. I can’t tell. The stars by her eye look faded, but they stand out on her.

“Where…..” I start, then clamp my mouth shut. It’s dry. I look around the room then turn back to her. “What time is it?”

“Just a little bit before 8. You were out for a while last night.” she explains. She reaches for something next to my place and hands it to me. A glass of water. I take it and gulp almost the entire thing down. I stop myself and wipe my lips. I look around the room again. It’s covered in dirty laundry and some old James Dean film posters. It’s too small. Have I been in this room before?

“Sorry ‘bout the mess….” she notices my gaze and stands up. She picks up some dirty laundry. “We’ve all been rotating in and out of here for the past couple of days. Trailers like these don’t exactly accommodate well for a family of four. But it’s what FP and I can afford.” FAMILY OF FOUR. WHAT FP COULD AFFORD. This is his trailer. FP is still here. In this trailer park. On the Southside. I look up at her in shock. Does that…. does that mean this woman is…..

“I’m Gladys, by the way. Sorry, should have said that earlier. I was with your girl most of last night…. Sabrina, right?” I can’t pay attention to anything she….Gladys, is telling me. _FP has a wife. FP has a family. So his life is somewhat better but he’s still trapped here. He’s married. He has kids. He’s_\---

“Sabrina? Your daughter?” she catches my attention. I blink at her for a moment before responding.

“Niece, actually.” I make up an excuse. She’s not my niece, technically. I’m nowhere near blood-related to the Spellmans. But she does see me as family. I stand up, slowly while bracing my hand on the bed, and give Gladys a small smile. I tell her my name. She wants to know what Sabrina and I are doing here. I sigh and, without all the details, explain most of what happened. I don’t know what Sabrina has told this woman, but I try to keep it as general as possible. Sabrina’s having family issues at home and is staying in Riverdale for a little time, I tell her. I offered to go with her, saying I spent some time here in my youth, I tell her. We got in a car accident and I panicked, I had a seizure, I tell her. She seems to buy into it, which is good. She nods after I finish.

“Yeah, that’s what she explained to me last night.” Gladys confirms. _Good girl, Sabrina_. She sets down the laundry and begins to head out of the room.

“You want anything to eat, Alice? I can get some toast started for you, but I gotta run out soon. Gotta take Jug and JB to school.” I stare at her blankly, confused by the kids’ names. _Jug and JB? Are those nicknames, or_…. I nod and follow her out. I see Sabrina on the couch standing up at the sight of me. There’s a boy next to her, black hair, grey beanie that faintly resembles a crown, a flannel. FP’s son?

“Ali!” she runs over and hugs me. Her embrace is loving, and I reciprocate. “Are you okay?” she pulls out slightly and looks up at me. “I didn’t know what happened to you….after the deer….” My mind flashes to the deer. The choking. Hal. _HAL_.

“I’m fine.” I croak out a lie. Gladys comes over to us and turns to this boy. She tosses him a pair of car keys. “Jug, go get your sister and get the car started.” The boy catches the keys and snickers. He says something to Sabrina and gives me a nod. I watch him leave…..he has so much of FP in him. Gladys reaches for my arm, catching my attention.

“I have some food going for you and Sabrina. I should be back in about thirty minutes. If not, FP will look after you.” The sound of his name makes me stiff. _Does he even remember me? Would he?_ I nod. She smiles at me and heads out of the trailer.

“She’s kinda cool.” Sabrina comments after Gladys is gone. “She has a job at Pop’s….you know, the diner….and….her kids are nice too. Their names are Jughead and Jellybean. But there only nicknames, of course….” she continues to ramble, but I’m fazing out again. I wander past Sabrina to examine the living room. It has a 70s vibe to it with the tiles on the floor, the curtains covering the windows, and the rugged-looking old couch. It’s so vaguely similar to how his family’s trailer was all those years ago. There’s only a few books on a shelf by the TV. How can this family afford to live here? I wander over to the shelf, running my fingers over the spines of the books. Maybe the books are for the kids? For her? For him, even? I don’t hear the door opening at first. I don’t register the voice right away but it starts to seep in.

“Hopefully this is enough for you girls in the bedroom.” this voice is talking to Sabrina. It’s an older voice….it’s one I know. I turn around to face this voice. He stops talking and his eyes land on me. He’s aged, but he looks….sadder, if I’m being honest. But there’s nothing drastically different about him. He’s still the same FP I remember from all those years ago.

“I’ll go….” Sabrina breaks the silence and grabs the blankets that FP brought in off the floor. “I’ll put these in the bedroom.” She takes the bundle and leaves. We’re still standing there at opposite ends of the room. He’s looking at me, up then down then up again. He takes a couple steps towards me. He pauses, his mouth gaping open and closed. I don’t think he knows what to say. And frankly, I don’t either. How can I just tell him _Hey FP, remember me? Acid Queen Alice? The girl who disappeared without saying goodbye and no one remembered me but you?_ Yeah….that wouldn’t exactly bode well with him. Or me.

He eventually breaks this silence. “You…. you changed your hair.” he mumbles. I forgot that I was a brunette back then. I give him a soft smile. I examine his face more. “You grew out a beard.” my voice sounds like a whisper. But he hears me, letting out a small chuckle as he stares down at the ground for a brief moment. Then he looks back up at me. His eyes are getting wet. And so are mine.

He moves closer, his footsteps slow but determined. I want to meet him halfway but I can’t move. The sight of him crying at the sight of me breaks my heart, it makes me paralyzed. But he keeps coming towards me, the tears flowing down his cheeks faster now. He reaches one hand out to my face, then another. I shudder as his fingers rest on my cheeks, his eyes studying my expression. “You….. You came back?” his voice cracks while he’s examining me. The words shake me to the point that I’m biting my lips so I don’t sob out loud. He remembers me. FP really remembers me.

“FP?” I finally manage to say. He closes the gap between us and pulls me in for a hug. It takes me a little bit to respond, remembering how loving and soft his touch was after all these years, and I eventually return the embrace. I allow myself to bury my face into the corner of his neck and sob. We stay like this for a while, the memories of the past flooding into my brain. After a minute or two, he leans back and cups my face, the way he used to all those years ago. “How is it…..” he stutters, still in shock, “When did you….. What happened to you, Ali?”

My mouth hangs open, I’m not sure how to respond. I had to wipe his memory of my powers when he did find out….when I erased the town of every trace of me. I slowly clamp my mouth shut and blink, feeling a tear stream down. After a moment, I look back up at him. I attempt to breathe….smile. “Do you remember, FP?” I eventually say to him. “In high school?”

“Yes! I remember! I…” he starts then his speech goes stagnant. How can I re-explain to this boy….man, I know about my powers? My 25 year disappearance? There are days when I wish I hadn’t left Riverdale. Where I could’ve not finished high school but just stayed with FP on the Southside. He would’ve kept me safe. He would’ve have loved me. And I…..

And I remember he’s married now. With children. My smile fades away at this thought. I can’t be back here to steal him away. I can’t hurt his family. Especially since Gladys has been so gracious enough to look after me and Sabrina. _Time to leave things in the past, Alice_.

Sabrina comes back out and takes note of FP and I standing in the middle of the room. “Sorry….” she stutters, “Did I come in on something important?” FP gapes his mouth open at the girl, but I know that the conversation will have to wait for another time. When I know how to answer his question.

I release myself from his hold and give his hand one last squeeze before wandering over to Sabrina. “No. You’re okay.” I tell her as I move into the little kitchen. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

An hour and a half later, Gladys and I sit on the couch going over rent payments so Sabrina and I can stay here in the trailer park. FP took Sabrina to get my car fixed, so it’s just us women in this tiny home. A spot opened up across the way from FP and his family, so we would at least have some neighbors that we know. She explains to me that the first couple months of rent would cost the most, but the remainder should go down depending on income and family size.

“How are you able to maintain living in here with your whole family?” I ask her, just out of curiosity as I examine the trailer again. And I thought my apartment back in Greendale was tiny.

“Why do you think FP and I had to take multiple jobs? It’s the only way we can afford it without going bankrupt.” she snorts and leans further back into the couch. “When I’m not at Pop’s, I bartend at the Wyrm some nights. And when I’m not at those places, I fix up some cars and bikes.”

“You’re a mechanic?” I turn my head to her, almost impressed.

“Just a side gig-slash-passion project my daddy got me into back when I lived in Toledo. Nothing major, though...” She grabs a stack of forms needed for living in the trailer park and flicks the pen open. “So I think you should be set to fill out your rent. Hog Eye’s a good man, so it shouldn’t take long for everything to get processed.” she admits and starts to pen in my name. _MY NAME_.

“Wait!” I grab for the pen and stack of papers. Gladys raises her brow at me in confusion. My mouth wavers between open and close, trying to come up with a fast excuse that’s buyable. I made all of Riverdale forget about Alice Smith….at least I think. But what if someone still remembers me? What if my spell didn’t even work at all? Maybe I should’ve thought these details out before Sabrina and I came here.

So I eventually tell her, “I had to change my name….recently.”

Gladys’s face lights up in shock. She chuckles and slides the papers to me. “Okay.” I sigh in relief and hover the pen over the line where I’m supposed to sign my name. I have to think of something quick, something that can make me blend in easily. I write out a name, and I huff when I finish. Gladys peers over my shoulder to see my “new identity”.

“Wendy Beauchamp, huh? That’s an odd name to start going by.” I roll my eyes at her comment. I will admit, it is a little odd for a woman like me to go by that name around here….but it has to work for now. She shifts next to me as I continue filling out my paperwork. “Not to get too personal, but….” She hasn’t even asked yet, but I already know what she’s trying to jab into. “Is there a reason you had to change your name?”

My hand stops moving. I sigh and turn to Gladys, but I can’t bring myself to speak. I sit there in silence for a few seconds, trying to craft some clever reason as to why. I could correlate it to the whole Sabrina situation, but would that be enough? Could I even trust this woman that I just met, the wife of my only friend in high school, the truth of what happened?

“Is has to do with Sabrina, doesn’t it?” she inquires and I almost cry in relief. I can work with that. Not able to respond with words, I nod at her. “Understandable.” she responds, “Yeah, trust me. Whatever you and that girl are going through right now….probably ain’t as bad as the shit some of these Serpents go through. FP and I kinda have gotten used to playing damage control around here.” She goes quiet, staring down at the paperwork. Does she know about my relation to FP?

“Thank you.” I throw out. She looks up at me, confused for a moment then mitigating. I sigh and reach for her hand. I continue, “....for looking after FP all those years.” She smirks at me. Does she hate me?

“We were never….” I stutter out then go quiet, not sure how to phrase it. But I hope she can understand. I _need_ her to understand. I start to ramble, “We don’t have any…..romantic history. I mean…..we never dated, Just grew up on the Southside together. Still….”

“I get it.” she responds as her smirk fades into a small smile. I’m not sure at first if she is being genuine, but she gently squeezes my hand and her smile softens. “It’s okay, Alice. I take your word for it. You and Sabrina seem like good folks….. actually is a nice change to have good people around this part of town.” Gladys takes the paperwork from me and places it on her lap, examining it. I still have a hold of her hand, her wrist….. There’s a tattoo on her wrist. One I can’t make out quite well at first, but the more I look at it….I swear I’ve seen this symbol before. I try to move her hair tie to the side so I can see the full thing, but I think she caught on. Gladys turns back to me and notices my actions.

“Don’t worry, it’s not an ink smudge.” she reassures me and frees her hand from my hold. She removes her hair tie and lifts her wrist to me, indicating for me to examine her tattoo. I blink at it for a moment then pull her wrist closer. It’s a snake in a circle eating it’s own tail. “Everyone always asking if it’s my Serpent tattoo.” Gladys tells me, “It’s not, though. Mine’s on my back. But this one’s a bit more personal. It’s….umm….” she pauses, trying to best figure out how to explain it to me, but I already know.

“It’s Ouroboros.” I mutter staring down at the snake. “Symbolizing rebirth and release.” The room goes quiet. I look up at Gladys and her face contorts. Then she lights up, half impressed and half puzzled.

“You know what that means?” I open my mouth to answer, but I have to catch myself. I purse my lips for a moment then speak.

“Just something I’ve taken a recent interest in. That’s all.” I feel awful having to lie to her, but she seems to buy into my answer. She lets out a chuckle and stands up, gripping the trailer paperwork in her hands.

“You are a strange woman, Alice.” She offers me her hand and I take it, feeling her pull me up. “I have a feeling we’re gonna get along just fine. Let’s go introduce you to Hog Eye and get that trailer.”

XXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

Being in Riverdale hasn’t been that bad of an adjustment. Whoever Ali’s friend is, FP, and his family have all been welcoming and helped me and Ali get our own trailer, for temporary time of course. We’ve only been here for about a day, and I’m already set to start school at Riverdale High, so that should be good. The only thing I’m confused about is what Ali is doing. She used someone else’s name….someone named Wendy Beauchamp….to sign for the trailer and to get me enrolled here. She won’t give me a clear explanation as to why, but whatever it is, I hope it’s not serious.

I am a little bummed that Ali won’t come with me to drop me off and help get me established here, but luckily Jughead and his mom were kind enough to give me a ride over. I get out of the car and look up. The building’s a lot longer than I thought it would be. A lot cleaner too, compared to Baxter. Yet it still doesn’t feel like home. Jughead comes next to me and leans against the car. “You ready to enter the thunderdome?” he snarks, making me feel a little less afraid. I give him a small nod and we go in together.

Jughead’s actual names is Forsythe Pendleton Jones III. It’s a family tradition, like me wanting to go by Edwina Diana…..or formerly wanting at this point. He’s a loner but makes quite the remarks at other people. He’s into conspiracy theories and unsolved mysteries….. In a way he reminds me of Harvey. The thought of Harvey makes me miss him even more. It makes me miss my life in Greendale and the memories, good and bad. But this is home for now, whether I like it or not. Oh well, might as well try to blend in.

It smells like books and freshly baked cookies when we enter the school. The atmosphere is surprisingly light and cheery with groups of kids running past each other. It’s cleaner than Baxter, and the kids seem much happier to be there. Jughead helps me get past some cheerleaders, the Vixens I’m guessing, so we can go into the administration office. I walk up to the front desk and become checked in while Jughead hangs out in the back. There’s no one frown on the faces of anyone working here. It’s kind of nice but also unsettling. I get my paperwork and now I have to wait for my tour guide to come, to Jughead’s dismay.

“I don’t get why I can’t just go with you?” I express to him while we’re looking at my class schedule at the bench. “We’re in almost the same classes.”

“Prime example of unruly dictatorship in Riverdale High. No slack for us folk on the wrong side of the track.” he comments in a whisper. He’s told me somewhat of his family’s history with this group, the Southside Serpents. His dad joined in high school, and his mom came over from a faction of the Serpents in Toledo, and now they’re having to play backseat drivers to the guys in charge. He’s not exactly sure why they haven’t left if they’re that unhappy. And I thought my situation was dire.

The door flies open, making me jump in my seat. Someone in a black cape and hood enters, and I’m ready to fight back with some magic at whoever this is. But I regather myself as this person takes off the hood. Just another student…..no, wait, she looks important. This girl that just walked in means business, and she turns to Jughead and me. Her medium-length black hair almost blends in to the cape but her makeup stands out. I don’t think she would be the type to be caught walking around the hallways of Baxter anyday.

“Nice get-up, Bacall.” he addresses her. This girl, I guess I’ll call her Bacall too, tilts her head at him, frowning.

“You’ve got light years ahead of you before you become the next Humphrey Bogart, _Torombolo_.” Bacall fires back at him in Spanish to my surprise. She’s stunning and clever, talk about a one-two punch. Bacall turns to me and forms a soft smile. “Are you Sabrina?” she points a finger at me as she comes closer. I sigh and stand up, holding my paperwork down in front of me. I walk over to her and nod.

“Fantastic.” she smiles at me and starts to give the whole “Welcome to Riverdale” spiel, giving me looks of annoyment to make the experience bearable. When she ends, she sighs and extends her hand out to me. “Sorry, almost forgot to introduce myself. Veronica Lodge.” I think I could be friends with this girl, Veronica. She and Roz share the same passionate energy. Veronica twists her head back to Jughead. “Thank you, Jughead, for being a gentleman and keeping Sabrina company, but I can take over from here.” As she stops speaking, Veronica extends her hand out to my shoulder to pull me closer to her.

“Do you have to take charge of everything, Veronica?” Jughead rolls his eyes.

“You can come with us if you want.” I speak up in between them. Jughead loses his sarcastic meaner and walks past us.

“I’m good. Don’t want to interrupt your one-on-one girl talk hour. Have a good first day.” he salutes to me before leaving the room. I feel bad for leaving him by himself, but I want to be able to get to know the students here….at least I should be.

“Don’t mind him. He prides himself on being a loner.” Veronica reassures me and takes my arm. “Let’s go ahead off to class.” Feeling a bit more comfortable, I follow her out of the office and into the hallway. Luckily, Veronica and I have first period together, so she’s there to guide me through this place. The moment we clear from the crowds of people, she starts to ask me about why I decided to come to Riverdale. I can hear Aunt Ali’s voice reminding me to go with the story we fabricated the night before. So I tell her: I’m Sabrina Mullway. I grew up just a couple of towns away from Riverdale. Due to family problems back at home, I’m staying for a bit with a family friend, who is Aunt Ali….Wendy Beauchamp….or whatever it is she’s choosing to go by. As always, I have to omit the whole _I’m kinda on Church of Night Witness Protection because I didn’t choose the Path of Night and sign my name over to Satan _business. Fortunately Veronica hasn’t asked too many complicated questions, and she’s buying into my story.

“Well it’s a good thing they paired me with you.” she gives me a sympathetic look, “I know what it’s like to be the new girl. I just moved here myself not too long ago.” I’m shocked, purely because Veronica looks like she spent her whole life here in Riverdale. She nods and continues, “Believe me, I loved my life in New York, but I don’t regret moving here at all. I can see why Daddy loves this place so much.”

And now I can see it too. I don’t know what it is about Veronica that’s setting me at ease here in this school, or even in this town…..but, maybe Ali was wrong about Riverdale. I don’t see any bad blood here.

XXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It had to take every bone in my body just to drive into the parking lot of school. It looks a lot cleaner from the last time I was here, and I can sense lighter auras amongst the new student body. But it still has that bad air to it. Something is sticking out in my senses that makes me want to rip my skin off.

_I still remember the first day that Hal came with me to school. I wasn’t expecting him to show up at all. But it was a grueling day and the kids were pressing for details on how I managed to leave the Conway home alive. But I didn’t want to answer their questions. I didn’t want anyone talking to me, I just wanted to be left alone. I spent most of my time that day hiding in various bathroom stalls. I eventually had to come out of my makeshift cave just so I could get a bite to eat. _

_The cafeteria was crowded and seating was limited. I was able to score a back table with no one in it, and no one had tried to come over to me. I was alone yet the whole area was so damn loud. My brain was riddling off some silencing charm but even then I wanted my head to shut up too. I barely touched my food at first. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but someone was coming over to me. I figured it was FP coming over to check on me, but the football team was out of town for a game. Maybe it was Tom, or Sierra….maybe even Hiram Lodge to see if Acid Queen Alice had completed her adventure to that house or what-have-not. _

_But I couldn’t sense their auras as this person came into my peripheral vision. It had a completely different aura all together. One that wasn’t human….just in a human-like body. I heard his voice before I saw his face._

_“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” Hal spoke to me and I looked up. I didn’t notice the smile growing on my face until those demonic eyes of his glowed at me. The naive and idiotic half-witch I was back then gestured for him to sit down across from me, and I never broke that damn smile. _

_“I’m Harold Cooper, I’m new here.” he teased me. “You think you can show me around?”_

His voice still lingers in my head from time to time….I heard it all through this past week. My hands grip the steering wheel and my eyes squeeze shut as I tell myself to breathe. But there’s something cawing outside my car. I open my eyes to find a raven on top of another car…. Wait, was that the same raven from the shop? It waddles towards my direction and flies on to my hood. It caws at me, giving me an eerie glare. Does someone from Greendale know I’m here?

My phone buzzes in my pocket, catching my attention. I stop looking at this damn Edgar Allen Poe manifestation in front of me and glance down at the notification. Sabrina’s on her way. Sighing, I slide the phone back into my purse and get out of the car. I eye the raven one last time as I step out, and purely out of a raging impulse, I slam on the side of the car. The raven caws and flies off. _That’s right, fly away, you little shit_, I think to myself. Part of me wants to go chase after this bird to see if it is a familiar to a witch in Riverdale…..if there is another witch beside me and Sabrina. But even so, I’ve done enough running. Let them come to me.

I see Sabrina running towards me with a grin on her face. I’m shocked, quite frankly, because I know she wasn’t keen on being in this town in the first place. Any more than I was. “Hey!” I attempt to call out to her with a positive expression on my face, despite the fact that I want to panic and scream. Sabrina halts in front of me and reaches for my hands. “Take it you had a good first day?”

“Surprisingly so. Yeah.” she beams up at me. “It’s much cleaner, and BIGGER than Baxter….” she continues on but I can’t bring myself to pay attention. I’m still staring around the school’s building and playing fields. Too many memories are seeing back into me.

“Hey, are you okay, Ali?” Sabrina recaptures my attention. I blink down at her a couple of times, unsure of how to respond, and she gives my hand a soft squeeze. “I think it’s changed a lot since you were here. Speaking of, I don’t think I found you in any of the older photos. At least from what I saw. Maybe I just wasn’t looking in the right areas.” Behind her, a girl with raven black hair comes over and places her arm on Sabrina’s shoulder. Something about this girl makes me stiff. I swear I’ve seen that face before.

“I was worried I lost you!” the girl sounds overly ecstatic. The voice has a ring to it but it’s new. She turns to me and becomes pleasant. “You must be the one looking after Sabrina! How nice of you! I’m Veronica.” Veronica. Huh, a name just as pretentious as her looks.

“Hello.” I reply coldly, and I don’t mean to, really. But something about Veronica calls back memories of someone….people I knew.

“You still want to go to Reggie’s soccer game?” Veronica asks Sabrina. “We can take her with us.” And I know she’s talking about me, trying to be nice. They both turn to me….. What has Veronica done to this girl? My body stiffens with every blink of their eyes on me. I feel like I’m losing breath but I can’t tell. I snap back into it when Sabrina reaches for my hand.

“It should be fun. We don’t have to stay the whole time if you don’t want to. But can we just see at least five minutes of the game?” Sabrina’s practically pleading me. A part of me wants to go full Zelda on her and drag her away from this place. But another part of me wants to let her have the adolescence I could never experience. But I’m not sure if I trust this Veronica girl. Her facial structure seems oddly familiar. Could it be….is she….

“Sure.” I find the effort to say. The girls squeal in excitement and begin to head towards the back soccer field. Sabrina’s calling for me to catch up, but I’m dragging my feet through this place. Everything still looks the same as I remember. The bleachers from when I would chain smoke with FP whilst ditching class. The football field where I got into a fist fight with Penelope Blossom and her ragtag of River Vixens. It’s all still standing. Wish I could make that all disappear too.

We wind up standing by the bleachers looking out over the fence at these soccer players. The Bulldogs aren’t up against the Ravens from what it looks like, yet again I never really paid any true attention to sports. Sabrina is typically so Go-Ravens that it’s unique to see her rooting for the Bulldogs. She’s making the effort to blend in…..and here I am still trapped in the past. The game goes on for a few minutes, it’s quite entertaining. I can get out of my thoughts for a few minutes and focus my anxiety on who has the ball and who tries to make a goal. The Bulldogs are winning and Veronica is so proud. And Sabrina doesn’t look so scared. Maybe this girl Sabrina met is genuine and I completely misjudged her. Maybe Riverdale has changed for the better, at least for Sabrina. Maybe….

Veronica’s attention veers off to something behind me. Someone behind me. “Oh no.” Sabrina and I both turn to find quite the expensive vehicle pulling up to curb and stopping. The door opens and out comes….

Hiram Lodge? No. It can’t be. He looks older. Leaner. Much more built than his scrawny, wrestler physique from high school. His black hair still stands out in the sun. He still has that stupid New York prep school smirk on his face. He turns in our direction and the smirk widens. I turn back to Veronica, coming to a dangerous realization. Veronica is his daughter.

“I’ll be right back.” she tells Sabrina and politely moves past us, leaving the soccer game behind. She jogs over to Hiram and stops in frustration.

“_Mija_, there you are.” he greets his daughter while removing his sunglasses…. Wow, why am I even paying attention to this? Why is Hiram Lodge more interesting than a bunch of high schoolers kicking a ball around? I don’t have the energy to turn away from them, I’m frozen. Afraid.

“Daddy, I told you I was staying after school today.” the girl barks up at him. She definitely has his fierceness. I still can’t wrap my head around that she’s his daughter. And where is her mother? WHO is her mother?

“We agreed on you staying later for Vixens practice. Not some….high school soccer game.” Yep. Same old Hiram. Just when I thought Zelda and Hilda were being controlling of Sabrina. I want to hex him for talking to his daughter that way. But I’m still in my paralysis, hearing my breathing get short. _Don’t look over here_, my mind repeats like a mantra. _Don’t look at me, Hiram. Don’t you do it_. Sabrina leaves my side and heads towards Veronica and Hiram. “Sabrina, wait---” I hiss, but it’s too late. She goes over and stands next to Veronica.

“Please, it’s not her fault. She just wanted to help me adjust to the….uh, culture here.” she explains in rushed words. Hiram stands there motionless, directing his attention at Sabrina. But he seems impressed.

“Oh. My apologies.” he owns up to his narcissistic behavior, playing pleasant with Sabrina. “I didn’t realize you were playing ambassador today.”

“No worries.” she’s acting quick on her feet, extending her hand out to him. I’m cringing at the thought of her mingling with these people, but it’s all happening so damn fast. “I’m Sabrina. Mullway. Yeah, Sabrina Mullway. I just moved here, and….your daughter was showing me around.”

“Well, welcome to Riverdale, Sabrina.” he’s beaming at her and I don’t know how to interpret his words. I could spit at him. Burn this field to the ground with just one thought. Make him fall to his feet with just one spell. But he takes Sabrina’s hand and shakes it. He eyes the girls for one more brief moment, then he looks over. Straight at me.

_Fuck._

He leaves the girls and heads in my direction. Every part of me wants to run, or push him over, do something instead of letting Hiram douche-canoe Lodge walk my way. I have to grip onto the fence to keep myself from falling over or vomiting. He stops a few feet away from me and takes in the details of my stance. He stares at me for a while. Is he trying to figure out if he knows me? DOES he remember me?

“So you must be Mrs. Mullway?” his voice goes deep and quiet. _Breathe, Alice_, I have to remind myself. _You’re not in high school anymore. You have the ball in your court._ It’s the boost of confidence I need. I let go of the fence and lift my chin up at him. Time to put the mask on.

“Beauchamp. Actually.” I tell him, drawing out every syllable. “Wendy Beauchamp. Family friend.” I go silent. I’m waiting to see if he falls for it, but I can’t tell. His smirk gets softer, and it’s like poison is spilling down my spine.

“Pleasure.” he gives me a smile after that one word. I want to punch his teeth out. Before I can move or say anything else, Veronica and Sabrina rejoin us, and thank goodness. Veronica crosses her arms and grabs her father’s attention.

“So what’s the verdict, Daddy? Can I stay or are you going to make me go home?” she sounds annoyed, and I don’t blame her. Hiram sighs and turns away from me, only for a short time. He looks back and forth between the girls, then stares back at me. Have his eyes gotten darker, or is my memory getting muddier?

Keeping his eyes locked on me, he speaks, “Keep your new friend and her guardian company, _mija_. Wouldn’t be polite to leave them here by themselves.” To the side, Veronica and Sabrina celebrate in relief. He then turns to back to Veronica, not done with his statement, “Only….if you remember that we have reservations for dinner tonight. And I don’t want you to be late again.”

“I won’t! The game should be over by then.” Veronica snarks at him. I admire her confidence. I could definitely use some right now. With one last glance over at me, Hiram gives me a soft, sickening smile.

“I hope we can meet again soon, Wendy Beauchamp. I have a feeling you’ll love it here in Riverdale.” And with that, Hiram turns from us and walks away. I let out the breath I held in for the past few minutes once he’s out of our hair. I’m not facing the girls, but I can hear their conversation.

“Sorry you had to see that, Sabrina. My father…..he can be so controlling some times.”

“It’s okay. I know he means well.”

“I know. But….I guess he’s always been like that. Ever since I was younger, he never wanted me out of his sight. Probably because he got so paranoid after my mom died….” _After my mom died_. My back stiffens and my breathing shortens again. I slowly turn my head to the girls eavesdropping on Veronica’s words.

“Oh…I’m so sorry.” Sabrina reaches out to Veronica, all sympathetic.

“It’s fine. It happened years ago.” the raven-haired girl explains. “I don’t exactly remember how it happened, but from what I’ve heard from Daddy, she had a really bad time with….some stuff. I don’t know…..maybe it was because she got into a really bad car accident as a teenager that left her paralyzed….”

Car accident….paralyzed….. I’m about to break down and panic. I have to cover my mouth to keep myself from sobbing out loud. Or even pass out I can’t fall apart out here in this damn football field, but I know what happened. I know who Veronica is referring to.

Hermione Gomez was her mother. Hermione married Hiram. And now she’s dead. She has been dead.

I did this to her.

I can’t stay here anymore. Without making eye contact with anyone, I move away from the girls and head off to the bathrooms by the bleachers. I don’t know how fast my legs are moving, but they hit the door once I reach the bathrooms. The door flies open, and luckily no one is in here, and I stumble into a stall, gripping onto the frame for dear life. I let out a sob, my heart practically flying out my chest, and I let my body crumble to the floor. I feel so numb. I can’t breathe. I did this to Hermione. I’m the reason she’s dead.

_It was never my intention to paralyze her the way I did. I couldn’t leave her there to die in the car….not after what Hal did. I was actually starting to get along with her. We were becoming….friendlier with one another. By this point, I no longer wanted anything to do with Hal or the things he could do to my classmates. I had wanted to get even, but I didn’t want to hurt them that bad. I didn’t want to kill them._

_I ditched my familiar in the hallways the past couple of school days, and I began to spend some more time with Hermione and a couple of her more academic friends. And it was a fresh breath of relief from what I had tried so desperately to avoid….from what I had tried to ruin with Hal. But these kids were actually good to me. Hermione was actually trying to care. The night of the accident was the night of the school’s winter musical, _Pippin_. Hermione was playing Catherine, the love interest, and she was actually a pretty good actress. The performance overall was pretty good. Why did I spend so long protesting this lifestyle? I considered even joining the theater program myself. Maybe I should have._

_She had invited me to go to the after party with her, which was strange considering I wasn’t part of the cast or crew. But she had just broken up with Fred Andrews, and she and Penelope were no longer getting along. All and all, she didn’t want to go by herself, so I decided to accompany her. I remember she had taken a while getting out of her costume and makeup in the dressing room….I should have known better. She came out to greet me and she appeared all stiff. I asked if she was okay, and she shook it off, leading me out to her car. That damn, bright yellow car._

_I sat in the passenger’s seat as she sped down the roads of Riverdale. Everything had been fine at first. We were talking about plans for Christmas break, Serpent and Vixen gossip, so on. She still seemed like herself for a while. Then _White Rabbit_ by Jefferson Airplane came on the radio. That should have been an obvious sign. Hermione went quiet and starting swaying to Grace Slick singing the iconic lyrics. I couldn’t tell if she had snorted something in the dressing room, but she was starting to act strange. And the car had started to go faster._

_“Are you sure you’re okay, Hermione?” I had asked again. Hermione just laughed. I knew her breakup with Fred and fallout with Penelope had devastated her, she admitted it to me earlier, but her behavior was starting to concern me. _

_“I’m fine….” she answered, and she placed her hand on my leg, still looking out at the road. “Everything’s okay….since we’re together again.” My eyes widened at the last statement, and I gave her a fearful look. Hermione then turned to me, her eyes glowing bright blue. Exactly like his. _

_“What? Did you really think you could escape me forever, baby?” The words came out of her mouth, but I knew it wasn’t her speaking. It was him._

_“Hal….” He laughed through her voice, and the hand on my leg gripped tighter, almost burning me. How did he possess her like this? What did she do to deserve this cruel fate?_

_“I thought we were steering clear of the Vixens. Are you already trying to defy me, Ali?” he was making her voice angrier. I saw her foot pressing further into the gas pedal. Whatever it was he was about to do, I had to put an end to this._

_“Hal….don’t do this. Please….” I tried to plea, but he wasn’t having it. He made her laugh, Grace’s voice on the radio growing louder._

** ** ** _When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead_ **

** _And the white knight is talking backwards_ **

** _And the red queen's off with her head_ **

** ** _“I’ve always wondered since you’ve let me out of that house,” he spoke, “what would a Vixen look like wrapped around a tree?” I had no words. The car started to lose control, jerking side to side. He made her look at me, her hand finally releasing my leg. “Let’s find out, shall we?” _

_Her head violently turned back to the road. _

** ** ** _Remember what the dormouse said_ **

** _Feed your head, feed your head_ **

_“HAL!” I screamed as the car veered off the road, towards the forest, smashing into a giant tree. Glass shattered, the wheels hissed, everything went silent, but my ears were ringing. My head hurt, but somehow I was still alive. I looked up, trapped in my seat, and saw her hunched body over the steering wheel, her head out of the broken, bloody windshield._

“Ali!” a voice shouted from behind me, pulling me back into the present. I can still hear the car going into the tree in my head, but Sabrina’s voice is growing louder. She appears in front of me, crouching down. I’m not sure how long I’ve been like this, but my eyes are wet and my throat is dry….sore…. Sabrina takes my face into her hands, attempting to calm me down. I struggle to breathe as I find the words to explain my actions.

“I knew her….” I croak out. “I….I knew….” I can’t finish the sentence. I want to tell her everything but I can’t. I physically can’t. Sabrina lets go of my face and hugs me. I allow myself to bury my face into the younger witch’s shoulder and cry.

XXXXXXX

“Yeah, this town’s kinda gone down hill since Hiram Lodge decided to show back up with that girl of his.” Gladys explains to me and Sabrina as she pours me another cup of coffee. After the breakdown in the bathroom, Sabrina decided to have us go to Pop’s. I was against it at first, trying to tell her I was fine, but in the end, I drove us over to this diner. Luckily, Gladys is on her shift, so she’s able to get us our order without worming her way too much into what happened.

“His daughter’s pretty nice.” Sabrina throws into the conversation. “I’d give her the benefit of the doubt.” I roll my eyes unintentionally, but I think she noticed. I want to trust Veronica….but she has so much of Hiram in her. And so much of Hermione...

Gladys gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll go check on your food, ladies.” She leaves us at our booth, and the silence takes over again. Well, it’s not entirely silent. The Mamas and the Papas faintly sing in the background, but hey, I’ll take it. I drum my fingers on the coffee cup and bite my tongue, still struggling to recover from the panic attack earlier. I try to focus on what I can sense - the warmth of the coffee, the smell of hamburgers and fries, what the Mamas and the Papas are saying.

_You know the preacher like the cold_

_He knows I'm gonna stay_

A couple of moments pass before Sabrina speaks up. “Ali, if you don’t mind me asking….” the younger blonde starts, taking a deep breath before continuing, “don’t you think it’s a little strange that Mister Lodge doesn’t remember you? Especially since you went to high school with him?” I let out some air through my nose, not sure how to respond. I feel awful for having to keep my past hidden from Sabrina, and it doesn’t help since I’m back in the one place I never wanted to be.

“25 years is a long time, Sabrina.” I eventually find the words, “And he’s also spent some time in New York, too….”

“But Riverdale is so tiny.” Sabrina jumps in. “Everyone seems like….they knew everything about each other.” She goes quiet for a moment, and I already have a dangerous feeling of what she is about to ask. “What about Veronica’s mom? She said something about a car accident…. Do you remember anything about that? _Did_ you know about that?” I didn’t just know anything about the accident. I caused it to happen. No, Hal did. And I had to play doctor just to keep Hermione from dying right then and there. I let out a sigh and snap my lips shut, trying to keep myself from breaking down in the middle of Pop’s. My eyes get misty as I look out the window. I turn back to Sabrina, trying my hardest not to let my emotions show.

“Yes.” I respond with a weak voice. “But….it’s not just that. It’s….” I stop, unsure of how to go forward with my confession. I want to continue but Sabrina takes a firm hold onto my hands.

“I know coming back here has been scary for you, Ali.” she attempts to reassure me. “But you don’t have to worry. Whatever it was that happened….whatever you knew about Veronica’s parents….or Jughead’s…..whatever happened to you all those years ago, you can tell me. I’m not scared.” I know she isn’t scared for me. But I am for her.

_If I didn't tell her_

_I could leave today_

The song wraps up but my mind is too occupied on Sabrina to pay attention. Maybe I am being too paranoid for thinking Hal could still be lurking in that house, waiting for me to come back so he can get his revenge. Maybe even go after her. Still….

There’s a commotion behind me. Before I can process what’s happening, Sabrina leans out to see what the trouble is at the other end of the diner. I can hear it before I can turn to see it. An unhappy customer is trying to fight with Gladys over something stupid. Something about running out of pie. PIE.

I get up from the booth and head towards Gladys’s direction. The customer gets all confused when he sees me come over. “Can I help you?” he snaps at me, and I have to stay calm. “What’s going on?” I turn to Gladys, trying to diffuse the situation. She tells me that they ran out of cherry pie, and this asshat she’s waiting on is not thrilled. My mind starts to race. I can’t let this man berate Gladys. I have to do something. Luckily, I know a thing or two about making pies.

“How much baking supplies do you have back in the kitchen?” I ask. Gladys raises her brow at me, but I immediately start to head back to the kitchen. Sabrina gets up from our booth, catching onto what I’m about to do, and runs over to join me. Gladys grabs for my arm, stopping me in my path.

“Alice, what the hell are you doing?” she hisses in a low voice. I lean in and take her hand into my own. “Do you trust me?” I whisper. Gladys doesn’t respond, but she turns back to the customer, still miffed, then whips her head back to me.

“Guess we’re about to find out.” she huffs and leads me and Sabrina back into the kitchen. The chef back here stares at us and tries to ask Gladys what’s going on. She waves him off and starts to pull out some baking items for me. Sabrina finds a can of cherry pie filling and sets it down next to a package of frozen pie crust and a can of whipped cream. I don’t work with frozen or canned stuff (everything I make back at the bakery in Greendale is all fresh) but these will have to do for now.

“Get the oven to 375 if it’s not already.” I command Sabrina and she runs over to preheat the oven. I rip open the package of pie crust and start opening the canned cherry pie filling. The smell isn’t too great, but I have to work with it. I dump the pie filling into the crust, it’s still frozen. Is it worth using my magic to heat up the crust a bit? Just so it can cook faster? At this point, why not? Without making it too obvious, I place my hands around the crust and use some nonverbal magic to make it warmer. I finish placing the top layer onto the pie and look down at this….sad version of a cherry pie. Hopefully this should work.

“I’ll take it from here.” Gladys takes the pie and places it into the oven. Sighing in relief, I lean back against the kitchen counter, hearing the oven close shut. Sabrina smiles and gives me a thumbs up before exiting the kitchen. Gladys comes over and crosses her arms. I purse my lips shut….not due to the anxiety of waiting for the damn thing to bake, but more out of guilt for Gladys. Is she going to get in trouble because I stepped in?

“I’m sorry if you lose your job because of this.” Her eyes widen and she lets out a snort.

“Are you kidding? My ass would have been way more on the line if you weren’t here.” she reassures me as she leans against the counter next to me and looks out the pass through window. “Actually glad you know what the hell you’re doing.”

“Pies are my specialty.” I admit, causing her to face me in confusion. I open my mouth, trying to mentally determine how to go forth explaining myself, then give her a smirk. “I ran a bakery back home. I usually….make everything from scratch. Fresh ingredients.” I grab the plastic from the pie crust package behind me and crinkle it in my hands. I sigh, “But this had to suffice.” Gladys lets out another snort and pushes herself away from the counter.

“Shit, Alice, we could definitely use some of your skills around here.” she beams at me. She throws her arm around my shoulders as we head out of the kitchen. Sabrina is standing against the booth near the unhappy customer, giving me a concerned look. I think she knows I used my magic, but I can’t make it obvious. It’s been a minute or two and I’m hoping this damn pie cooks quickly. I’m tempted to use more magic and speed up the process because I don’t want Gladys to get attacked anymore. Well, it’s worth it.

Gladys is still talking to the customer, so I can get away with this. I clench my fist and see the pie in my mind’s eye. I want it to at least be edible. I notice Sabrina looking at me in panic. She looks down at my fist, and I see it’s glowing almost bright orange. I look back up at her to see her mouthing my name. I shake my head at her. _Don’t let the rest of the diner know_. I get back to focusing on that pie, I can practically smell it. I slip away from the scene and head back into the kitchen. The pie’s all ready when I pull it out and set it to cool.

“That’s her, Pop. That’s the bitch Jones let into the kitchen.” I almost jump in fear to the angry voice behind me. I turn to find the chef who yelled at Gladys leading Pop, the owner of this diner, into the kitchen. I remember Pop Tate, he was a good man. I just hope he still is.

“That’s enough.” Pop silences the cook and shoots me a sympathetic look. He steps towards me and says, “Typically customers are not allowed back here. But….” He stops, noticing the pie behind me. “Did you just make that?” he points to it.

“I heard you ran low so….I just wanted to help.” I try to defend myself, but my confidence is slipping. The kitchen goes dead silent. What was I thinking of trying to intervene in this? With guilt coming over me, I grab some hot pads and carry the pie out of the kitchen, setting it down on the bar table by Gladys. I give her a sad look before turning back to Pop. “Sorry for violating your policies….I’ll be on my way out.” I have to fight back tears as I turn on my heel to gather my stuff at the booth and walk out with Sabrina.

“Hold up!” the customer calls out to me, and I turn back to face him. “You made this thing?” he points down to the cherry pie, almost impressed. I can’t find the words to respond, so I just nod. He grabs a fork from his booth and immediately takes a dig at the pie, not even bothering to wait for anyone to cut out a slice. He chews on it for a bit. My heart’s pounding. Did I mess up making this? Oh no, what if the ingredients I used were all expired or rotting or….

“This is good.” he chuckles, looking over at me in giddy. The tension in my upper body eases and I can breathe again. “This shit’s good, man! No one else is gonna have a bite, are they?” he looks at the rest of the crowd in the diner before taking the entire pie back to his table. Sabrina runs over to join my side and watches this kid practically devouring the whole damn thing.

“Gladys, who is this friend of yours?” I hear Pop asking. Gladys eyes me, determining how to respond. I raise a brow, hoping she won’t say my real name. She nods, I think she understands, and turns back to Pop.

“Wendy. She and her girl just moved into my neighborhood.” she goes along with the story. Pop then faces me and smiles.

“What else can she make?”

XXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

It’s been a week since Ali and I have arrived in Riverdale. And so far, everything is okay. Ali has a job waitressing with Jughead’s mom at the diner, and I’m quickly adjusting to life at Riverdale High. I’m making an attempt to get to know the other students and include Jughead, but I feel like I’m becoming very good friends with Veronica. We can relate to one another when it comes to being “new in town” and striving just to make our families happy. In a way, she’s just like me. It’s nice not having to worry about what’s happening with the Aunties or Harvey or the rest of them back home. I don’t find myself reaching for Dad’s necklace when I get anxious or the slightest bit homesick. I can just relax and be a teenager for once.

I’ve been staying after school a little later to watch the River Vixens practice, since V wants me to join the team and she’s offered to teach me the routines. I have an audition for the team at the end of the week, which is amazing! I haven’t broken the news to Aunt Ali yet, but hopefully with her new job at Pop’s she can adjust to life in this new Riverdale. Whatever happened to her, I hope she can move forward. This might be good for her, and for me.

It’s a little after Vixens practice, and I’m all worn out from V helping me with my audition routine. I head down the hallway past some photos from the 90s….around the time Ali would have been here. I look down at some of the photos, they’re of the older sports teams. I see Jughead’s dad posing with the football team. Mister Lodge on the wrestling team. But where is Ali? Maybe there’s some yearbooks around the school that I can scour through. I see a light coming from one of the classrooms, I think….maybe in there? I head over to the room and open the door. It’s an old archival room with newspapers up on the wall. It smells of coffee and newspaper ink. I look around the room then stop at one area, gasping. Jughead looks up from his computer and almost jumps in his seat at the sight of me.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” I throw out, still looking around the room. He notices my state and lets out a stiff laugh.

“So, you found my secret lair.” Jughead sighs and gets up from his seat. He holds out his arms, gesturing around to the empty classroom. “Welcome to the Blue and Gold Room. It’s where I write the school newspaper…..not like anyone reads it anyway.” I’ve heard some things about the Blue and Gold. I’ve seen a couple of copies around the hallways. But I had no clue that he’s in charge of it.

“You write the school paper?” I ask in curiosity. He nods and sits down on top of his writing desk. He grabs a copy of one of the papers and hands it to me. I’m pouring through this newspaper….this is well written. Way better than the news in Greendale. It’s all conspiracy theories that are local to Riverdale. One story catches my eye - how there might be a demonic knock-off game of Dungeons and Dragons that originated from this place called the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. I’m quite intrigued. If only the Church of Night had their hands on this game.

“Oh yeah, Gryphons and Gargoyles.” Jughead sees me reading this article. “Surprised no one has drank the kool aid to that game yet around here.” he jokes, and I laugh. “Speaking of drinking the kool aid, take it the Park Avenue Princess has convinced you to try out for the Vixens?” he gestures to my gym outfit. I lower the paper and roll my eyes at Jughead.

“Maybe….” I respond. “But I’m not a hundred percent sure yet! I just want to try something new.” I admit, and it’s the truth. Back home at Baxter, I never really mixed with the jock crowd, or the cheerleaders. I mostly hung out with booksmart kids like Roz and Susie. But this isn’t Baxter High, and the Vixens actually seem well verse in their academics and athletic lives. If they can do it, maybe I can too.

“I get it. You want to blend in.” he gets up from the table and moves back around to his seat. “I don’t blame you….it’s tough being an outsider. I know exactly how it feels.” He goes quiet, staring down at his computer. I feel bad for him. He’s been here most of his life without many friends. And he’s grown up on a bad side of town. I look back down at the newspaper and try to find other writers. I only see his name on most of these articles. I haven’t talked that much with Jughead, but with everything he’s covered in this paper, and what hobbies of his I’ve learned from his sister, I can bond with him on this information. Maybe I can provide some of my own stories from Greendale….well, if I don’t give away every aspect of my life.

“Do you have people helping you with these articles?” I put the question out there. Jughead looks back up at me and contorts his face in confusion. “What if I help you with some future stories? Maybe….I can write an article on what it’s like to be the new girl? What Riverdale is like to an outsider?” Jughead’s face grows soft.

“You’d do that?” his voice loses its sarcastic demeanor, and I beam. Jughead Jones may be a self-classified loner, but it doesn’t mean he should be writing the school paper by himself.

“Yeah! Or…” I walk around over to his side of the desk and crouch down, examining his computer screen. “Or I can help you get started on….whatever this is you’re writing about.” I lean in closer to have a better look at the laptop screen. There’s a couple of tabs open, one about tips to finding your first demon, another about ancient witchcraft…. I didn’t realize Jughead was this into the supernatural….or at least into demon-hunting.

After eyeing his screen for a moment, I turn my attention back to his in-progress article. There’s no official title, but he already has a paragraph or two of content. Jughead pulls the laptop closer and holds it in his hands. I slowly read the paragraphs.

“Who’s the Riverdale Reaper?” I ask, blinking at the screen.

“Urban legend around here.” he puts on a Rod Serling impression as he starts to tell the tale, “Back in the mid to late 60s….well, 1967 to be exact, a madman terrorized the town, committing unspeakable murders on unfortunate citizens. No evidence or pattern was ever found….no one’s even sure who done it all. Maybe a ghost for all I know….” he teases, his voice getting all spooky. I’m not sure if the story is supposed to terrify me, but I’m quite intrigued, and I want to know more.

Jughead opens his mouth to continue the story, but the door flies open, making us both jump. I stand up in defense, but I see it’s Veronica and I sigh in relief. “I was worried I lost you, ‘Brina!” V smiles as she strides over to me. She then sees Jughead and gets quiet.

“Jughead was just telling me about this….Riverdale Reaper.” I go on to explain, but V still stares at him.

“Really? That’s how you’ve been recruiting people for your newspaper?” she snarks. “By telling them the false tales of a murderer that doesn’t exist?” He rolls his eyes and stands up, setting down his laptop.

“The Riverdale Reaper does exist.” he defends himself, “Well, he did exist at one point. And if you brushed up on your local Riverdale history, Veronica, you would know that this year would mark the 50th anniversary of the Conway Family massacre.” Conway Family massacre? In full curiosity, I turn to Jughead.

“What massacre? Who were the Conways?”

“A famly that was “allegedly” murdered out in their home. Killer wasn’t found.” V attempts to describe the event, causing jughead to grow irritated.

“It’s more than that, Veronica.” he pipes in, letting out a sigh. V gestures for him to tell me the events of this massacre. Jughead turns to me and begins the story. “There was a family living out near the forest, on Fox Lane. The Conways were your stereotypical suburban nuclear family. Mother, father, two kids. One night, they were all asleep, and…..someone broke in.” he pauses for the sake of emphasis.

“People say it was a boogeyman, but everyone knows it was the Riverdale Reaper. According to the police files from that night, he went room to room with a shotgun. Killed the mom in the kitchen first, then the dad in the living room, then the two kids upstairs. No survivors.” He stops for a while, allowing for me and V to absorb the information. My heart goes heavy in mourning for this family, even though they’ve been dead for many years. But the Reaper must have done more than this.

“You think this was the Reaper’s doing?” I inquire.

“Only plausible theory out there.” he tells me.

“But were there more after that?” I continue. “This couldn’t have been the end. What happened to the Reaper?” Jughead stays quiet for a moment. V and I look to each other then back at him. He drums his fingers on the desk, probably thinking of what to say. He looks back up at me and finishes his tale.

“No one knows what became of the Riverdale Reaper. Some people say the lynch mob got him. Hung him from the tree near Pickens Park. Others think he hopped a train and went out to California. Started praying to the Devil……” he goes quiet once more, lifting a finger in thought. “I think he never left Riverdale. That….maybe some part of his soul, or a family member, is still out there lurking. Waiting to find his next victims." The room goes dead silent. A ghost in Riverdale? I knew what strange, supernatural elements came out of Greendale, considering my abilities and the Church of Night. But could it be possible that maybe Riverdale has its fare share of magic too? Can there be something evil in this town hiding in the shadows? Something that could explain why Ali had to leave all those years ago?

“That’s what this whole ghost bullshit was when I walked in?” V breaks the silence. Jughead faces her as she crosses her arms and regains her unbothered attitude.

“Well, how else can you explain what happened to the Reaper?” he grows agitated. “It’s like no one gives actually cares about this part of Riverdale’s history that left everyone shook!”

“It’s a conspiracy theory, Jughead! Just another geeky thing to be made fun of on _Buzzfeed Unsolved_!” Veronica fires back. The tension is dangerously escalating, and I don’t want to see them fight. My head is whirling with so many questions. What became of the Reaper? Are there any members of the Conway family, or anyone who knew the Conway family, still alive? And what about the house they lived in? Is it still standing? What if there could be something….

“What if we went there?” I finally speak up, making both Jughead and V stare at me. My mouth flies open for a short bit before I continue, “Maybe there can be answers at the Conway home!” Jughead points a finger at me slowly, almost like he can see what I’m telling them.

“That could be smart….only problem is no one has been to that house in years. Probably because there’s a ghost.” V rolls her eyes at him in frustration. But I can see her contemplating the idea in her eyes. Perhaps I’m jumping too full-heartedly into this idea….but there is so much history in this town that Ali hasn’t shared with me. And maybe there is some magic and supernatural activity in Riverdale. It could be dangerous, but it’s worth a shot.

“Then let’s prove it.” I confirm my stance. “We can go to the Conway house to see what became of the area. That way,” I gesture to him, “you can get a first hand account and photographic evidence for your article, and” then I turn to V, “we’ll truly know if the place is haunted or not.” V uncrosses her arms and smiles at me….a slow malicious smile that kind of sets me off a little.

“Already a week in this town and you want to rebel. I’m impressed.” she compliments my decision. “Only problem is, how will we slip past our parents?”

“You saying you’re gonna join us on this one, Holly Golightly?” Jughead throws in.

“I’m not confirming anything…..but, we’ll have to make this trip quick because I can’t risk my Daddy berating me for late-night frolicking again.” I can understand her fear. While I do want to trust Mister Lodge, he does seem awful cruel. But it’s not just her….if Ali ever found out that I went to a possibly dangerous place without telling her, it would break her heart.

“Okay, so we’ll slip in for five minutes,” he begins to strategize, “get whatever evidence we need, then get out.” It’s a smart plan, but there’s only one more thing we need to work out. V most likely doesn’t have a car. Jughead’s parents are going out somewhere on the Southside, and Ali is working a late shift at Pop’s. Which means that we have no mode of transportation.

“How will we get out there then?” I state the question. Jughead rests his fists on the desk, coming up with a strategy. V looks back and forth between us, not sure of how to respond. Then, Jughead’s eyes widen. He looks back up at me and smiles.

“I know the Bulldogs aren’t exactly my crowd….but there is one mutual redheaded acquaintance Veronica and I know of that can help.”

We all move outside the school and wait for Jughead and V’s “mutual friend” to show up. The weather isn’t too bad, but because it’s the middle of November, the temperature has dropped significantly. I’m tempted to use some magic to keep my hands warm, but I can’t expose myself to my new friends. Just yet.

The wait goes on a little longer, then an old truck pulls up to the curb. Jughead gets up and hustles over, V taking me by the arm. I finally look into the truck to see who exactly Jughead recruited for our ghost-hunting adventure. He has bright orange hair, just as Jughead mentioned, and he has an innocent face.

“You better have a good reason for making me sneak out this late with my dad’s truck, Jug.” the redhead sighs as he opens the doors for us. The boy looks down at me and V, his face growing soft. “Ronnie! Who’s your new friend?” V goes to answer but Jughead interrupts.

“New Vixen recruit, Arch. From Greendale.” he replies. I climb into the truck, with V slipping in next to me, and I get a better look at this boy, Arch. He’s got a Bulldogs jacket on, yet he doesn’t look as aggressive or as grueling as some of the other guys here. As a matter of a fact, His features this close up remind me so vaguely of Harvey’s….

“Sabrina, right?” the redhead’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts of Harvey. I put on a smile and nod. He extends his hand out, “Archie Andrews. Nice to meet you.” My smile becomes more genuine. I take Archie’s hand and shake it. “Yeah, I’ve kind of known Jughead for a while. Friends since elementary school.”

“Yeah, until you joined forces with those neanderthals you called your football teammates.” Jughead snarks as he takes shotgun next to Archie. Next to me, V rolls her eyes before letting out a chuckle.

“Ignore him, Archiekins.” she turns to Archie. “And thank you for taking all three of us out to Fox Lane this late at night.”

“No prob, Ronnie.” Archie turns back to the road and starts up the truck. “I was actually hoping to get a break anyway. Got serious writers’ block.” This peaks my interest.

“You’re a writer?” I ask. He lets out a nervous laugh that’s almost inaudible.

“Songwriter, actually.” he admits. “I hope to have some form of a music career if football doesn’t work out. I have some songs that I’ve recorded if you’re interested in listening.” He turns back and begins to fumble with the radio. V and Jug both start to bemoan and protest, to my shock and sudden amusement.

“Just drive, Troy Bolton.” Jug waves Archie away from the radio, and we hit the road to Fox Lane. The drive overall is pretty quick, and this group in the truck with me is quite entertaining. Archie did get his chance to play one of his songs for us on the radio, and it’s good. I can see him going off into the music industry, maybe even become the new Shawn Mendes or something. V and Jug continue to bicker over whether ghosts do exist and if they haunt the Conway home, but my mind is going to other places. I wonder if anyone in Riverdale really remembers what happened or why….. I wonder if Aunt Ali knew of this place and its legacy.

The truck rolls to a stop, just a couple of houses down the road from our destination. The boys climb out first, leaving me and V alone in the truck for a small bit of time. I look out the window, absorbing the atmosphere around me. The winds are whispering. Something hidden in one of these houses is talking. Calling. Begging to be let out.

“You okay, ‘Brina?” V grabs for my hand. I look back at her and sigh.

“Just worried about….Wendy. That’s all.” I tell her. She forms a sad smile and nods.

“I get it. But it’s great that she has a job at Pop’s.” she attempts to cheer me up. “Surprised my Daddy hasn’t gone over yet. Her pies are supposed to be phenomenal.” I smile and turn back to the road. Fox Lane looks darker now, much darker than how it looked when we showed up just five minutes ago. Outside, Jug and Archie yell for us to catch up. V and I slide out of the truck and I shut the door. The air has gotten cooler, I’m shivering.

“You really think Jughead is telling the truth about this place?” V’s teeth chatter. “That it could be haunted?” I survey the scene one last time. If something….wicked really made Ali leave all those years ago…. maybe it came from here. Maybe it’s time I found out.

“Let’s go find out, shall we?” I take V’s hand, and we catch up to the boys.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It’s been a slow night at Pop’s, but I appreciate the quiet of it all. The environment is nowhere near how my bakery operates, it’s much more busy and loud, but nevertheless, it’s an environment I can easily adjust to. Everyday, the diner fills up with bustling teens, happy families, and no bad memories. It allows for me to forget about the past for a while and place my energy into my baking. Since the pie save last week, Pop now has me making fresh pies and they’re slowly gaining popularity with the customers. I can use my own ingredients and cook it how I please, which makes me thrilled. And Gladys and I have worked out a good schedule - I come in to bake the pies in the early hours before breakfast, Gladys takes the morning shift after dropping off her kids, and I take over in the afternoon until close, or whenever Gladys isn’t working later into the night.

Overall, working as a waitress for Pop’s hasn’t been too bad. And life at the trailer surprisingly is smoothing out. The neighbors were a little nosy at first, but Gladys and FP cleared them all away by pretty much threatening to fight their asses. I don’t spend much time there, due to my work schedule at the diner, but when I do have time off, I’ve worked to make the trailer at least liveable for me and Sabrina, which has been good. The only downsides to living in Riverdale again are that I’m not able to spend a lot of time with Sabrina so I can check in to see how she’s adjusting. Also, whenever I drive through town, I’ve been sensing some bad auras, ones that I can’t put my finger on. I can’t tell if there even is another witch in Riverdale or Hal, but it makes me want to vomit during my trips, and it makes me want to hide out in my little trailer. Go back into my bad coping habits. But I have to stay strong, not mess this up for her.

And then…..and then there’s FP. We’re not fighting, to be clear, but we haven’t really talked since my return. It’s not that he’s been avoiding me, but it’s…. I am grateful for Gladys helping me and Sabrina, and for Jughead watching over Sabrina at school. And I’ve wanted to reach out to FP, let him know that I never wanted to leave him behind. But I’m scared that these emotions I used to feel for him will rise, and I don’t want to ruin his relationship with Gladys. I want him to spend time with his family. And….and I feel like he’s angry at me. For leaving and then coming back with no clear explanation. “Trust me, he’s not angry.” Gladys keeps telling me, “But just give it some time. He’s still trying to process it all.” she reassures. I know that’s the most likely truth, yet I still choose to keep my polite distance. Hopefully there is still time for us to talk. I hope we can find some way to reform the friendship we had all those years ago.

It’s a small collection of fears, but they haven’t bogged me down as much as I thought. My priority is on the pies and on the diner. A good 70s song is playing on the jukebox, setting the right mood for this atmosphere. Gladys had wanted to plan a date night with FP on the Southside tonight, so I’ve offered to take the late shift. But tonight is not all that busy, which is odd considering how crowded Pop’s usually is before the weekend…..not that I’m complaining or anything. Once the last little group of teenagers leaves the diner, I place the leftover pies into the fridge, starting to slowly clean up. Pop’s waiting for me as I come out of the kitchen.

“If you want to get a head start on cleaning up for the night, I’m thinking about closing the shop early.” he addresses me. I furrow my face in confusion before grabbing the dustpan and broom.

“This early? Isn’t only like 9:45, Pop?” I comment.

“Maybe the town doesn’t crave my place tonight.” he jokes. “Besides, you could use a break for one night, Miss Beauchamp.” Pop moves around me to start cleaning up the kitchen, and I start sweeping the aisles without another thought. The song that’s on the jukebox ends, and a new one starts. I didn’t know Pop had a taste for Queen. The familiar chords of “I Want to Break Free” start up….I forgot how good of a song this is. I start my cleaning in the diner as Freddie Mercury sings his heart out. I bob my head to the song, allowing myself to relax into my cleaning. I even catch myself starting to sing along to the lyrics.

** ** _I've fallen in love_

_I've fallen in love for the first time_

_And this time I know it's for real_

_I've fallen in love, yeah_

It’s a moment of peace for me, being almost entirely alone in the diner, jamming to an old favorite. But the moment doesn’t last long, because the doors chime open, catching my attention. My stomach churns as Hiram walks into the diner. He doesn’t see me at first, he peers into the kitchen window looking for Pop.

“Mr. Lodge!” The older man comes out to see who just entered.

“Good evening, Pop.” Hiram greets him, then he faces me. He removes his hat and gives me a lingering smile. “Hello, Miss Beauchamp.” I don’t say anything in return. I just stay in my position gripping onto the broom.

“I don’t think I’ve seen your face around here for a while.” Pop goes on, not aware of this tension. Hiram turns away from me and sits down at one of the barstools, nonchalantly engaging in conversation with Pop. I continue to sweep as I overhear the discussion. “I get plenty of Veronica, but it would be nice to see both the Lodges here at once.”

“I would if I wasn’t so busy with work. But, tonight I figured I needed to enjoy some of staple Riverdale cuisine. Besides, I’ve been hearing many excellent things about these…..pies Miss Beauchamp has introduced into this town.” That catches my attention. _So Hiram Lodge is actually interested in what I have to offer?_ I walk over to join the conversation and set the broom to the side of the bar top.

“We were lucky to have this wonderful, hardworking lady arrive when she did. Her pies draw the crowds.” Pop acknowledges my presence. I grin at him, trying as hard as I can to not make eye contact with the…..elephant in the room. “She has a lot of good recipes, but her most popular are the peach, apple, and cherry.”

“Those all sound appetizing.” Hiram comments. “Tell me, Miss Beauchamp…” he calls to me, making me want to rip his vocal chords out. I turn to him at a slow pace, locking my eyes onto him. “Which one would recommend for me to try?” I say nothing at first. I’m contemplating on how to go forward with this request. I don’t want Hiram in this diner. I just want to clean to Freddie Mercury and retreat to my trailer for the night. But he’s asking for my services. _My_ pies. I rest my forearms on the bar and lean forward. I have the upper hand here.

“Depends on what you crave.” my voice comes out more monotone than I anticipated. He brings his arms up to the bar, placing them down in front of him. His fingers curl together in a strange way…. He stares down at his hands for a while. Why is he acting like this? Eventually he looks back up at me, still having that damn look on his face.

“Surprise me. Pick my poison.” he eggs me on. I lift my forearms off the counter and stand up straight. Maybe I will. I move past Pop, heading into the kitchen towards the fridge. The cool air strikes me as I open the doors. I look down at my creations. Part of me wants to poison him. Part of me wants to watch him choke on a piece of the filling and do nothing to help him. Everything in me wants to see Hiram Lodge enjoy his last dessert.

It’s a sick thought. One Hal would persuade me to act on. But I’m not back here in Riverdale to make a scene, or to act back out on my former high school enemies. I’m here to keep a low profile and to stay out of trouble until Sabrina goes back to Greendale for her trial. Even if that means I have to let Hiram out of my vengeful, imaginary grip. I pull out the cherry pie, cut up a slice, and slide it onto a plate. My finger pushes down too hard as I spray on the whipped cream. My hands flick too fast putting a damn cherry on top. My insides are screaming for me just to do something to him. _Breathe, Alice_, I have to tell myself. _You’re almost done for the night. Just feed this son of a bitch his pie and don’t cause trouble_. I walk out of the kitchen, my hand holding the plate of pie shaking, and I plaster on some sort of a positive facial expression the closer I come to Hiram. I set the plate down in front of him.

“Cherry. What a classic. You read my mind.” he comments with that stupid smile, and he takes a dig at the pie. My fake expression slowly fades unconsciously as I watch him take his time. _Yeah, have your cake and eat it too, asshole_. He twirls the fork in his hand and looks back up at me when he finishes. “Absolutely divine.”

“Glad you approve, Mr. Lodge.” Pop chuckles next to me. “Maybe this can convince to start coming back here more often.” I know he means well, it’s his business on the line here, but I would be just perfectly fine if Hiram Lodge never showed his face around when I’m here.

Hiram continues twirling his fork around for a few seconds, then takes another dive into the slice. Pop claps me on the back and grabs my attention. “I’ll be out back when you two are done here.” He gives me a smile then heads out, towards the back of the diner. Strange….why is Pop leading me to my own devices here? Especially with a customer around? Whatever, I think to myself. Hiram’s too busy slowly devouring the slice, so I decide to slip away from the bar area and get back to my sweeping. Freddie Mercury’s no longer playing, the jukebox is completely silent. I wish something was playing though, just so I don’t have to face this awkward silence.

“It’s a nice night out.” I hear Hiram trying to make conversation with me from the other part of the diner. “I love quiet nights like this in Riverdale. Gives me a chance to get lost in my thoughts…..or come to this place for a late night snack. I will admit, pies are one of my guilty pleasures.” I don’t look in his direction, I just continue my sweeping. I can hear the fork clanking over and over on the plate, and every ounce of me wants to go over at him and tell him to stop. “I meant it, by the way. This is one of the best slices of cherry pie I’ve ever consumed. Where did you learn such a skill?”

I want to ignore him, I don’t want to give him an answer. Just in case he does try to pry at where I came from….where I’ve been. I tilt my head back to him and sigh, gripping tighter onto the broom. “Taught myself, to be honest with you.”

“So this has been a long-term practice?” he tries to dive further. I relax my face and my hold on the stick.

I begin to answer in all honesty. “It’s taken a few years, if that’s what you mean. It was difficult to jump into at first, but now…. It’s second nature to me. It helps me get my mind off some things. Relieves stress.” I find myself becoming more comfortable, which is strange considering he’s in here. But it’s the first time in a while someone has asked me about my craft.

He seems satisfied with my answer. “Maybe that’s why this tastes so good. You practically put your heart and soul into this.” he replies in a manner I’ve never heard him speak. Ever. His voice is soothing and genuine. I think this might be the first compliment Hiram has ever paid me, even if he doesn’t know it’s me. For a moment, I forget all the negative thoughts I had merely minutes ago, my guard comes down. I give this man a soft smile before I turn away and continue sweeping the diner floor. I can hear him clanking around more with the dish, and he speaks up again. “I’m actually glad that we finally have a chance to be alone….to talk one on one. To get to know you better.” His voice develops a serious tone, making my head lift a little. It’s nothing too severe, I don’t think I need to worry much. If he wants to dig into my “backstory”....well Wendy Beauchamp’s backstory, I think I can make up something.

“Well…..we’ve got until close.” I keep the conversation lighthearted without sounding too weary. “Where would you like for me to start?” He goes quiet….it’s making me a little concerned. Whatever, maybe he needs time to digest and think of questions to ask. I go back to my work.

“How about by telling me where you’ve been…..Acid Queen Alice?”

My eyes snap wide open. My body freezes. My breathing stops.

_What the fuck did he just call me? _

I hear him setting whatever it is he had in his hands down and get up from the stool, but I can’t turn to face him. “25 years is an awfully long time to be away from Riverdale.” I hear his footsteps inching towards me with every word coming out of his mouth. “I know I was in New York with Hermione and Veronica for a while, but I at least didn’t leave without saying a proper goodbye.” I’m having trouble processing his words, I’m having trouble focusing on my own breathing. I turn my head and find him standing right behind me. His face looks concerning, yet he still wears his pride on his sleeves. My mind has entered full panic mode.

I thought I wiped out his memory along with everyone else. How does he remember me? How does he still know who I am? There’s no other way he could possibly know who I am, unless I forgot to remove his memories of….. Unless there’s someone in Greendale who told him of….

Unless…. UNLESS….

“I must say, Alice. You left quite the powerful memory removal spell before your mysterious exit. You really made everyone in Riverdale believe that Alice Suzanna Smith doesn’t exist.” He pauses, letting out a long sigh. “Shame, though…. Whatever you conjured, it didn’t work on me.”

The broom shakes in my hands, my teeth chatter, I’m still frozen standing inches from him. Hiram Lodge knows who I am. He knows what I can do. Everything I worked so hard to hide at this point since returning to Riverdale is slipping from my reach, even if I could use my magic to fix it all. I go between fear and sadness, building into anger. No, it’s a rage burning inside. A rage I haven’t felt since all those years ago. He shuts his lips together and reads my face. I can no longer hide my emotions. At this point, I no longer care if anyone is watching or if the newspaper paints what happens into some small-town tragedy. I want answers.

No. I want him dead.

“I should probably explain myself.” he mutters in regret, but he already made his wrong move. He steps out to me, and that’s when I explode. Using my force, I push the broom out, jamming the middle into his stomach, and let out a banshee-like scream.

The moment feels like slow-motion. The broom snaps in two as my might, and my magic, send Hiram flying back across to the other end of the diner. The lights flicker violently, almost going out entirely. Some windows shatter from pure reaction. Broken glass hits the diner floor, and the broom, now broken into two nasty-jagged pieces, slips from my hands. The jukebox jumps through songs uncontrollably. I’m blinded by rage and fear that I don’t process the damage I just created. I haven’t used magic this powerful, this violent, in a long time.

My blood pulses in my ears. My eyes dart to Hiram trying to push himself up from the other end of the diner. I eye one of the broken halves of the broom, and with concentration, I use telekinesis to lift the stick off the floor, along with some shards of the broken windows. He’s still on the floor, scanning the scene around him then turning to me. I make my way over, my little inanimate army lined up and ready to attack, and the lights above me go out. The neon lights outside projecting the diner’s logo flicker from after shock. My hand raises, causing the objects around me to aim at him. Hiram doesn’t look terrified. He doesn’t have any outward emotion, or fear, showing. More than anything, he still appears dazed from what I just did….he looks disappointed. Like he knew I would do this. But I don’t have time for whatever answers he may have. I don’t want to know why he knows, or how. I want to do what I should have done to him when Hal and I had the chance. _I’ll show him what’s become of Acid Queen Alice_.

The dark magic seeps out of me all at once. I flick my hand forward, sending the broken glass and the sharp end of the broom straight into his ---

Except there’s nothing. No cries of pain. No blood. There’s no damage to him at all. The broom and the shattered glass are hovering around Hiram, everything is dead still.

This isn’t my doing.

Is my mind playing tricks on me? Or is it…. Is it…. I blink and stare down. Hiram has his hand up in front of him. The objects floating in thin air are happening because of….

Wait. No. _NO_.

Hiram pushes himself back up to his feet, still keeping the objects around him at bay, the broom levitating in front of his hand. He glances from side to side at the glass before making direct eye contact with me. He looks calm and collected. Like this is second nature to him, because it is. Before I can process anything, he snaps his fingers.

The shattered window glass turns to sand, falling to the ground. The windows I shattered just minutes ago are seamlessly fixed, all while the lights flicker above us. My breath goes short, I begin stumbling back. It can’t be…. How is this possible? He turns his palm up and places it under the broom shard, which falls into his hand with ease. He takes time to stare down at his hands so he can adjust his grip on it. A moment later, he looks back up at me, the broom shard tight in his hand. He heads in my direction. I want to fall back, run out the back door or even into the bathroom. I can’t tell if it’s of my own doing or his, but I’m trapped. The other half of the broom slides into the air past me, straight into his other hand. Hiram connects the broken ends together and mends the breakage. The broom is whole again in his hand by the time he is five feet away from me.

My eyes start watering, and my nose is…. Wait, is my nose bleeding? Something slow is oozing out, but I can’t pay attention to my body because I’m too focused on what just happened. I can’t begin to process what happened. I don’t want to believe it. I want to think it was all just some feverish dream that resulted from my seizure. But this is real.

Hiram Lodge is the other witch in Riverdale.

** _End of Chapter Two_ **

** _XXXXXXXX_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then, looks like Alice won't have an easy time escaping her past.... On a scale from 1 to WTF how shook are you at the plot twist? Lol, let me know whatcha think, and I'll come at yal again next week.
> 
> Peace!


	4. No More Secrets, No More Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi pals! Happy Thursday! Here's another chapter to get yal through the weekend!

**ALICE**  
I should have known there was something off about Hiram Lodge. I never once suspected that he came from a witch community…..well that was because he never came off that way. He was the prep-school, golden boy wrestler. He was Riverdale’s living, breathing version of Jay Gatsby. He was one of the people that made my life hell. At least that’s how Hal made me think of it.

_I remember the day Hiram actually first talked to me. It was a day or two before that damn Halloween party that sent me to Hal, that shaped out my future. I didn’t make him come and talk to me, I had no interest in his crowd. But it was after classes and I was just minding my own business. It was with every intention that I finish the day, get home, and practice my spells. I was so caught up in shoving my books into my locker that I didn’t even know he was there. I didn’t see him until after I shut my locker._

_I remember jumping at the sight of him. Back then, Hiram was not as tall or as muscular. His hair was all glossed back, it looked so stupid on him. I didn’t know why he was there or what he wanted, maybe it would have been better if I had just walked away. But had the balls to lean against the locker and give me a damn smirk._

_“So you’re the infamous Acid Queen Alice, huh?” were his first words to me. Acid Queen Alice, I wanted to slug him. Everyone in our class had something to say about him, but I never saw anything. To me, he was just in my way._

_“Can I help you, asshat?” I spat out at him, hoping that could make him disappear, but he stood his ground._

_“It’s Hiram, actually.” his voice went deep before he extended his hand out to me. “Hiram Lodge.” he repeated, like I didn’t already know who he was. I didn’t want to touch this pompous prick. I didn’t even want him breathing near me. He must have taken the hint because he lowered his hand, in defeat, and continued, “I have a business proposition for you. I’m assuming you’ve heard about a little get together Miss Penelope Blossom’s having? On Halloween night?”_

_Of course. He wanted drugs. And I was the candy girl….retired by that point. I rolled my eyes at him and crossed my arms. “You got the wrong girl. I retired that act a while ago.”_

_“But you have Southside acquaintances that do?” he stepped in closer, making me claustrophobic more so than the Serpent jacket on my back._

_“You think I enjoy being associated with them?” I snorted out. That seemed to shut him up real fast, but not for long._

_“Could give you an excuse to get away from your Serpent friends for the night.” He was quite the impressive negotiator….probably was using magic to get me on his side, but I wasn’t buying it. I rolled my eyes again, causing him to speak more. “Besides, it’ll be Halloween. You gotta have a little fun on Halloween. It’s not trick or treat for nothing.” I didn’t know what he wanted to poke further into but I no longer wanted any part of it._

_“I already told you…” I lifted my chin up, my confidence growing. He began to back away as I broke it down for him, “I. DON’T. DO. THAT. SHIT. ANY. MORE. Got it?” His face lost it smirk and turned into a frown. “Find another candyman to get your party favors, Manhattan.” I took the little victory and shoved past him with my shoulder, ready to make my great escape._

_Well, I was ready to make my escape until Hiram reached for my hand. His grip wasn’t hard, he was barely holding onto me, but it was enough to stop me. I slowly turned to him, about to hex the daylights out of him, and…. Should I have known of his magic back then? Was he holding me back with magic? Whatever kept me there in that moment, with his fingers having their gentle hold on my hand, with his New York schoolboy face all soft looking at me, I stayed. I stayed, staring at Hiram, as he spoke, “Maybe you could just come? For a few minutes? You don’t have to be all alone, Alice.” I stayed, and maybe I shouldn’t have. I stayed, and I went to that house. I stayed, and I released Hal and killed those classmates. I stayed, and Hiram was trying to tell me something.…._

Hiram is a witch. He’s Zelda contact in Riverdale. He’s the other witch. He was trying to tell me, maybe as early as our first conversation. Hiram was going to tell me. And now here I am in the middle of Pop’s with the lights flickering, and….. and….

“Alice?”

I can’t pay attention to him. My head is throbbing, my vision is blurring, something is coming out from my nostrils, the corners of my mouth and my eyes. I reach my shaky hand up to my nose and feel something wet. Sticky. I pull back and blink. Blood. My heart races as the blood drips off my finger. My fingers blur in front of me, the silhouette of Hiram behind my bloody finger.

“Alice?”

I see his figure step in closer, and out of sheer panic, I send my hands to my ears, a shock wave violently rupturing the diner. He slides back slightly, but he has a grip on the bar counter. He holds a hand out to me, I guess showing he’s not going to harm me.

Part of me feels guilty for attacking him. But he came after me first. He knows what I am. He called me by the one name I never wanted to have uttered by anyone I knew. And I…. I feel nauseous and my knees are buckling. My hand flies to my mouth and I can’t look at him. I can’t have Hiram see me like this. I bolt into the diner’s bathroom and use some magic to lock the door. Big mistake, because the little wave of magic makes me fall to my knees and vomit.

I know my magical limits. My body loses control when I use too much of it. Whenever I do go beyond these limits, I go into shut down mode and collapse. The last time I used such powerful magic was after I left Riverdale, when I bound Hal to that house and cleansed the town of its memory of me. I don’t exactly remember what happened to me in the course of those 48 hours, but what I had to do drained me. So now whenever I strain myself, my nose bleeds and I become nauseous. No matter how little I use my current magic, or even attempt to cure this thing, I haven’t healed right since. It feels like part of him is still bound to me.

I begin to notice that what’s coming out of me is not vomit, but it’s blood. It’s dark red….no it’s black, I can’t tell. I feel as if I will pass out if I keep this up, so I have to push myself away from the toilet seat and lean back against the wall. My eyelids feel heavy as they struggle to flutter open and shut. Everything feels heavy, even my eardrums. I might pass out.

I’m too drained from the magic and too engrossed in my thoughts that I don’t hear him pounding on the door from outside, calling my name. I don’t even notice the lock to the door being undone. The door creaks open, I see his shadow standing at the doorway. But I can’t face him. I don’t want to look at him. My gaze drifts upward, ignoring him walking into the bathroom, standing over me.

“Alice?” I hear him, but I choose not to answer. I want to kill him, but I’m too damn weak to fight. At this point, I just want him to go away. But he doesn’t. I’m not sure what he’s doing or why he hasn’t left the bathroom, but he goes over to the sink and starts running the faucet. This goes on for a couple of seconds, then the water stops running, only little droplets plinking into the sink.

Hiram kneels down in front of me, so I’m forced to look at him now. And I see what he was doing over by the sink. He has a damp piece of cloth in his hand. Wait a minute…… He comes into this diner to corner me when I’m vulnerable, and now he wants to help me clean up? What the actual---

He brings the hand holding the damp cloth closer to me, and I inch closer into the wall behind me, my back straightening along the wall and my breathing intensifying…. No, it’s struggling to regulate itself back out. My eyes dart down to the cloth in his hand, my gaze softening when I realize that….that he’s not going to hurt me. At least that’s what I’m trying to make myself believe in this moment.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” his voice goes soft. “I didn’t mean to frighten you out there, Alice.” Then he goes quiet, I’m guessing to figure out how to tell me why he came here. But I think I have an idea of why he came tonight. Before he can speak, I grab the cloth from his hand and swipe it over my mouth and nose, trying to get rid of the blood coming out. I inhale sharply once my nostrils clear up, but the air coming in stings. I bring a hand to the wall behind me so I can prop myself up, my legs almost sliding out from under me. I’m able to push myself away from the wall, but I teeter forward. I almost forget Hiram is there until I stumble into him. He gently places his hands on my biceps to keep me steady, and he rests his forehead against my own. I shut my eyes and breathe, in and out. In and out. When this wave of nausea and weakness happens to me, I have to keep this rhythm going….it’s the only way I prevent myself from passing out, or worse.

My eyes flutter open and I look up at him. He exhales and clamps his mouth shut, the same way he did earlier when he wanted to confess his magical abilities to me. But he’s not here to catch up on the good old days, or to even force me to face my old demons. He’s not here for me.

“Alice….we need to talk about your situation with Sabrina.”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**  
The house is smaller than what I had envisioned. It’s a white little two-story home with its windows broken, its roof collapsing, and ghosts of its former inhabitants whispering. Or just one inhabitant. Archie and Jug have wandered in already, but I remain outside, caught by the tragic beauty. I look out at the house, hoping for some sign of supernatural elements to scream out at me. But it’s only a tiny voice saying my name.

_Sabrina_, it whispers to me in a slow, repetitive pattern. I don’t know what lies within these walls or why it wants me. How does it even know me, let alone my name? _SABRINA_…..

“Are you okay, girl?” V comes next to me, pulling me out of my dreamlike stance. I turn to find her concerned eyes growing soft. “We can just stay out here if you want,” she starts to offer, “and just…..let the boys have their fun. Only if you want to. No pressure.” She stops talking, her mouth clamping tight shut. She’s not suggesting this for me - I can see it in her expression. She’s the one who’s afraid to go in.

She eventually continues, “Sorry...it's just, my Daddy mentioned to me about this place. Back when I was a niña. I don’t exactly remember the details of what he brought up, but it just makes me a little paranoid. That’s all.” Her eyes fixate on the house, all lit up and fearful. I follow her gesture and return my gaze to the house. Maybe there is something here…..whether benevolent or sinister, it has to lead me to finding my familiar. Or any familiar really that can bond with me. And maybe it can give Veronica some courage too. I turn back to her and grab her hand.

“We’ll go through together, then.” I tell her with a determined stance. “If something scary does pop up, we can protect each other. Okay?” And I mean it, I truly do. If something does happen while we’re in there, I can use my own magic to ward it off. It would risk me exposing everything about me to Veronica, but at this point, she’s the only real friend I have in this town. Someone who could understand. Her fearful expression fades at my words, and she forms a small smile, squeezing my hand gently.

“Okay.” she mutters, and we make our way up to the front door. We stop a couple of feet from the door, slightly open, and I take a deep breath. How would this be any different from what I see in Greendale? With my free hand, I push the door open, the creaking growing louder as the house waits for us to enter. V and I look at each other one last time, then we make our way in.

The inside looks like an abandoned horror movie set - it’s like the house in Psycho was vandalized and robbed overnight. The windows are covered with wooden planks, the air is musty. No wonder everyone in this town wants to forget this place. I cough as I inhale some dust, still holding on tight to V’s hand. I look around the house as I try to figure out where would be best to perform the familiar summoning spell. The whispering voice blows through my ears like a gust of wind. The voice bounces off the walls, and I turn to find the family’s living room. The voice is stopping in here.

“What is it, ‘Brina?” V asks in a hushed voice. “I can’t see! What’s wrong?” It is dark in here, and I wish I had a light or something---- A light. I can make some light appear. But is it worth showing my powers to her? Will it just frighten her more?

I turn to V and make my decision. “Promise me you won’t freak out? At what I’m about to do?” Her eyes widen at me, confused at first, then she slowly nods. I turn back to the room, inhale deeply, then shut my eyes.

I begin to work my magic, a spell to foster electrokinesis. I mutter the chant a couple of times, and I can hear the lights slowly flickering above me. I can see a light burning in my head, and I hope it can provide some light. When I finish my chant, I open my eyes to find the overhead light of the living room and a lamp by the corner fully on. I smile at my work, the house no longer as dark and gloomy.

“Sabrina….” V breathes out, “How did you….” she stops, stunned from what I just did. I turn back and let go of her hand. She glances around the room one more time, then she faces me. “You’re a witch.” The words come out of her mouth, and I can’t tell if I am relieved that she knows or if I just made the biggest mistake of my life (well, not as big as not signing my name in the Book). I can’t respond back in words, so I just nod. I might have made a mistake by telling her the truth, but she doesn’t look afraid. Instead, she hangs her head slightly then looks up at me with a somewhat guilty expression on her face.

“What is it?” I try to pry out of her, hoping that I don’t have to use a memory removal spell on her too. V takes a deep breath and clasps her hands together in front of her.

“Sabrina….. I think there’s something I need to confess to you, too.” I don’t process her words at first. I blink at her once, then a few times, then my mind races as to what she could be talking about. Before I can even think of what she could mean, V races her hands up to her heart, like she’s praying, and lets out a sigh, shutting her eyes. The lights flicker around us at a steady pace then uncontrollably. I look around, not sure if it’s me or if the house really is haunted, or….

The lights go out completely for a moment. I struggle to see in the darkness, my breath becoming harder and slower. Then the light returns, which stuns me, and I find that V is gone. My mouth hangs at the sight….or lack thereof. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know if V just played a trick on me just to run off with the boys. I’m about to call out her name and cry for help when the lights flicker again, and…..

Veronica reappears all of a sudden, making me jump in my place. The wind gusts through her hair. She has to take a strong stance to keep herself from falling over. She looks up at me and her eyes start to get misty. I stare at her blankly for a little bit, and I begin to realize what she wanted to confess.

Veronica is a witch too! I’m not the only teenage witch in Riverdale! I can feel a smile forming on my face, my fear slowly disappearing. “You’re magical too?” my expression grows at my words. I’m so caught up in my happiness that I don’t register V’s state of panic and guilt. Once I do recognize it, I try to ask if everything is okay.

She immediately jumps in before I can speak. “I know who you are, Sabrina Spellman!” her words come out rushed and her voice is cracking. I notice that she is about to cry. “It wasn’t an accident that the school had me as your ambassador when you came. My Daddy….. He’s a representative of the Church of Night in Riverdale. He wanted me to watch over you and keep tabs so he can send back information to Greendale.” My lighthearted mood falls a bit at her confession.

Auntie Z said something about a contact in Riverdale before Ali and I left. Is Mister Lodge that contact, making him a witch too? Are they trying to gather information so they can punish me once my trial begins? Or did Auntie Z and Mister Lodge make this agreement…..to keep me and Ali safe? I have so many questions swirling through my head, but my thoughts are being clouded with V’s teary state of being.

“I don’t want to hurt you by betraying you, Sabrina.” she lets out a small sob. “I actually kind of like you, and I…..I just don’t want you to feel alone. Because I know it’s hard having to be a half-witch and not tell your human friends.” I start to fully focus on her words. Half-witch? So she is like me! That must mean her father is a witch and her mother, when alive, was human!

My smile comes back slowly, and I reach out and hug her. It takes her a moment to understand my reaction, then she fully returns the embrace. After a while, V pulls back and gives me a puzzled look. “You’re…..not mad at me?”

“Mad?” I let out a chuckle. “How can I be? I finally have a friend that knows what it’s like to be me.” And I mean it. I’m so overcome with happiness right now. V is just like me! Auntie Z is protecting me by having another half-witch look after me! I’m not alone!

V begins to smile, the weight of her confession no longer holding her down. We both go in for another hug, solidifying our friendship and our shared secrets.

“I’m sorry, by the way….” V voices after our little moment of silence. I pull back a little and give her a confused look. She continues, “About your Baptism. I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” My mouth clamps shut and my eyes wander down to my feet. I don’t admit this to her, but the mentioning of that night still bugs me. I still have dreams of all those people from the Church, including the Weird Sisters, and even both Aunties, chasing me. No one is there to help me. Not Ambrose. Not even Aunt Ali. Whenever I get close to reaching them for sanctuary, they vanish into thin air. Then something pulls at me from behind, making me fall to my knees, dragging me by my ankles to wherever it is before I wake up. Perhaps it’s anxiety or guilt, but I hate having this weight on my shoulders.

I don’t blame V for bringing the subject up - she wasn’t there to witness the pandemonium. Without another moment of hesitation, I sigh and return my gaze to her. “You have nothing to apologize for. At least you can learn from my mistakes when it’s your turn.” I pause for a moment. Did Veronica tell me when her birthday was, or when it would be? “If….you already haven’t. Have you?”

“Not yet.” she goes quiet. “I’m set to have my Baptism in February. I would have a confirmation, considering my Mom’s family is Catholic. But seeing that my Mom is dead, and with Daddy and his whole side being deeply rooted with the Church of Night…...Dark Baptism it is.” She tries to sound optimistic but I can tell she dreads the thought of her Baptism. Just the same as me.

I place my hands onto her shoulders. “I’m going to be honest, V. It’s nerve racking, and there is so so SO much pressure.” I speak truthfully. What I’m saying might not help give her emotional strength, but knowing what I’ve been through, she can at least be somewhat prepared. “But now you have me to walk you through the rituals and what to do….and what not to do.” I joke, making her laugh. Her same little mischievous look in her smile begins to creep in again. I take notice in the color of her eyes….or the mixture of the color in her eyes. There’s layers of black amidst the brown and gold, and I swear there’s traces of something more….

I shake myself out of my focus and return to the conversation, trying to see if there’s other advice I can give to her. “Also,” I start up, a thought coming to me, “you’ll have your familiar by then.”

“Good luck trying to find one in Riverdale.” V huffs. She turns away from me and begins to pace around the living room. She takes a moment to glance around, running her fingers along the dusty, untouched furniture. “It’s rare for people with magical capabilities, like Daddy and myself, to reside in a dead zone like this town - nothing really supernatural resides in Riverdale, and if anything does….it doesn’t stay for long.”

“Is that why you think Jughead’s theory on the Riverdale Reaper is false?”

“Partially. But don’t tell him that.” she confesses with a wink. Then, V stops in her tracks and she stares at me. “Speaking of supernatural presences, are YOU still without a familiar?” My mouth hangs a little bit, gaping like a fish. I struggle to find the words to explain that nothing…..not one familiar, came to me the days leading up to my birthday. I’m about to tell her when she jumps in, “Is that why you came here?”

“Maybe.” I shrug and glance around the living room again. V may be right…..Riverdale could very well be a dead zone for magic. Yet, I can still feel something within me, something in this house calling to me. Something is hiding in these walls wanting to be let free. Maybe it’s just what I need to help me out in this town. I eye a pile of dust on the ground. This can be my starting point to help me with the spell. “But it’s worth a shot.” I head over to the dust and kneel down. I take notice in the floorboard….. Somebody must have tried to do the summoning spell before, many years ago.

“Do you want me to keep watch?” V nervously whispers behind me. “I can make sure the boys don’t see….”

“I’ll be alright.” I turn to her and give her a reassuring smile. “Shouldn’t take too long.” I return my attention to the dusty floorboards. I inhale, deep, I want this spell to work. I NEED this spell to work. Now more than ever. I exhale, and begin.

“Spirits of this house, I pronounce my intentions to thee.” I start to draw the symbols on the floor. A rattling echoes through the house. A voice mutters in the distance. Yet I carry on. “Come forth and seek me, and equal we will be.” Something creaks, growing louder with each word of my chant. “Not master and servant…..but familiar to familiar……” The voice in my head becomes louder, like a shrieking laughter. It may be my mind playing tricks or just Archie and Jughead goofing around upstairs, but whatever voice in my head is calling….. It may be much darker than I anticipated in a familiar. I finish the chant with my confidence growing. “.....to share our knowledge….our spirit, and our traits. And now, spirits, we will wait.”

The silence takes over. All I can hear is my heavy breathing, as well as Veronica’s. I open my eyelids slowly. Nothing stands out. Just the same set up from before my chants. The lights flicker a little bit, but not significantly. I let out a long sigh.

“Well?” V calls out to me in a hushed voice. I wipe my dusty hands on my coat and stand up to face her. I shake my head, my built-up confidence waning out. She frowns at me. “Told you Riverdale was just a dead zone---”

Something appears from the shadows behind V. A hand reaches out, grabbing her by the shoulder. V lets out a bloodcurling scream and whips away violently. My fear kicks in. Whatever I summoned, it’s going to hurt my new friend. I’m ready to use my magic to fight…...only Archie and Jughead. I relax my stance at the sight of the boys coming into the living room, chuckling at their little prank. V winces in frustration and proceeds to whack Jug in the arm.

“Damn you, Jughead Jones!” she hollers.

“Sorry, Ronnie! It was just the right moment!” Archie defends him and Jug in a fit full of laughter. Jug’s laughter comes to a slow halt as he glances around.

“How were you able to get the power on?” he turns to me. I realize that V and I didn’t have much time to make up an excuse for our magical conveniences. My eyes dart over to V, raising my brow at her, and V gives me a panicked look. Her expression reads “Just Say Something!” and I immediately go back to Jug.

“Just messed with the switches for a while.” I lie. I can’t tell whether or not he bought it, but he gives me a smile. Good, it worked. Archie and V banter from behind us, but I can barely hear the conversation. My mind is elsewhere…. The voice in my head is at full volume. It’s chanting my name, almost screaming it. I reach a hand up to one of my ears in attempt to cover it. I just want the voice to stop. Is it the familiar I summoned? What have I done? What did I just----

“Hey, are you okay?” Jug snaps me back into the real world. I blink at him for a moment or two, not sure of how to respond. The unrecognizable sensation continues in my head. I go to open my mouth, then the lights go out all at once. Archie gasps, Veronica screams. A hollow scream rings through my ears. I can hear the electricity go out down the street. And that laughter…

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” Archie hisses in the darkness. I can see his shadowy figure reaching out for Jughead. The boys make their way out, but V is frozen still.

“Brina?” she whispers to me. “Do you…. Do you think….” I make my way over to her in the darkness and grab for her hand. She squeezes my hand tight as I lead us away from the living room, out to the entry way of this hellmouth, back out into the street….

A gust of wind comes at full force behind us. V and I stop in our place on the walkway. I can see my breath form in the cold night. The breath clouds swirl in the air. The voice from my head echoes behind me. Now more present than before. SABRINA….. I slowly turn my head back into the doorway of the house, and…. Something is standing in the doorway. V turns to see where I’m looking at, and she jumps back, pulling me back with her. This….thing, whatever it is, lurks in the doorway, waiting for its final shape to form. Its eyes are glowing in the dark in front of me.

“Sabrina…..” it speaks. The voice is lighter now, but it is also raspy. Like it was waiting for a chance to speak after many years. “You called for me…..and I came.” The thing begins to shift. V and I both step back in fear. What is this presence forming into? The thing swirls in a black cloud for a moment, then…..

A black cat emerges from the shadows of the Conway house. It lets out a long, adorable meow. So this is my familiar. I sigh in relief, my eyes tearing up in happiness, as this new guide shakes its body and looks up at me.

“Awwww....” V lets out a cheerful expression.

“It worked.” I begin to chuckle. The cat-shaped familiar prances out of the doorway and heads in my direction. I kneel down and hold my hand out to it. The cat head-buts into my palm, letting out a pur of approval.

“Hello, Sabrina Spellman.” the voice speaks to me. I know now it’s coming from this familiar.

“Hey, little fella.” I take it into my arms and hold it close to me, examining my new friend. Its eyes are a unique blue-green that looks as if they have so many stories to tell. I could swear this thing was starting to smile at me.

“Hey!” Jughead calls out to V and me from a distance. “What’s taking you girls so long? There’s no power anywhere on this street!”

“Calm down, Jughead!” V yells back, motioning for me and this familiar to follow in suit. “Sabrina found a cat!” I can hear her giggle as she runs over to catch up with the boys. I take one more look back up at the house in the darkness, my new feline friend purring contently in my hands.

“I hate to ask, but would you mind if you let me down so I can stretch my legs?” the familiar asks in an angelic voice. “I’ve been cooped up in that house for maaaaaannnny years.” I hear his voice draw out. I smile down at it and carefully let it down to the walkway. It stretches out its front legs and lets out a yawn, which sounds like a faint scream. “Now then,” it starts up again, “shall we catch up to your friends?” It looks up at me with those mysterious eyes. I laugh and start to head away from the house towards the others. I look down at my new friend, who doesn’t hesitate to keep a good pace with me at my ankles.

“So…..” I start to ask it, “what do you want me to call you?”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**  
The silence in this diner is unbearable. I haven’t spoken a word to Hiram since he helped me up on my feet and back out into the main body. We’re sitting in a booth and he’s still digging at his pie, my pie. He grabbed a slice for me to help with the dizziness, give me some energy, but my slice is untouched. My fork unused. I’m staring down at the red lumps not wanting to look at him. I don’t want to acknowledge his existence. I know why he wants to talk and why Sabrina is somehow involved. I know what he wants to say, I don’t need to hear it. I don’t want to.

“So you’ve been in Greendale for a while, I suppose?” he attempts to break the silence and make small talk. I glare up at him and stay silent. He takes an uncomfortable bite at a cherry glob and twists the fork in his fingers. “When Zelda Spellman and I spoke on the phone, she mentioned a witch who used to live in Riverdale that would go with Sabrina. A witch who owns a bakery and psychic shop.” He pauses, his eyes going soft at the sight of my angry pair. “I never once made the connection that it was you until she said the Riverdale bit. I heard some things about the bakery you own…. I even tried to investigate more about it independently, just to grab some nearby sweets for Veronica and for myself. Well, that was…..but I think you have given Edgar quite a scare, if I must say.” My brow raises at the name. Edgar? Another witch? What kind of person named Edgar would go on Hiram’s behalf and….. Then I remember - the raven at my shop. That same raven at my car. I roll my eyes at let out a huff. Of course, how did I not realize? The raven, Edgar, is Hiram’s familiar.

“Edgar did inform me of your presence…” he continues like I didn’t insult him and his pet, “or at least a presence I wasn’t aware of at the time. But during that soccer game, when Veronica introduced me to Miss Spellman…..and I saw you…..the pieces began to connect. A witch from Riverdale. Closed-off. Quiet. In that moment, I realized, “So it must be Acid Queen Alice”---”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT.” I snap at him. Hiram clamps his mouth shut in shame. My blood boils and flows rapidly. The nausea comes through me the slightest bit, and I have to look away from him, down at the untouched slice of pie in front of me. My fingers curl, then they reach for the fork. I stab at the pie and take an angry bite.

“Funny how small of a world this is.” his voice rings the air again, quieter than before. I look back up at him as I swallow a bitter clump of cherry filling. His eyes begin to form some optimism as he talks, “There you were in Greendale after all these years, becoming so acquainted with members of the Church…..and here you are again. Looking after the daughter of the Former High Priest---”

“Save the theatrics, Hiram.” I interject, wounding his pride. I take a deep breath and set my fork down. I continue, “You want me to convince Sabrina to go back to Greendale and sign that book.” His mouth hangs slightly at my words. He looks shocked, but I’m not stupid. I know why we’re even having this conversation in the first place. He doesn’t respond, and I’m getting frustrated again. “Isn’t that why you had to waste my time tonight? To get Pop out of the way and frighten me?”

“It was never my intention to frighten you, Alice.” he manages to stay calm, “And trust me, I didn’t want to do anything to Pop Tate either. But I had to talk with you alone…..where we could truly talk as ourselves about the situation at hand….”

“What situation at hand?” I snark. “Sabrina’s staying in Riverdale until notice of her trial, and I’m making sure she doesn’t get into trouble.” My mind races and I realize that I have no clue where Sabrina is and what she’s doing now. Is she back at the trailer with Gladys or FP watching over her? Is she with friends? Anyone or anything that is nowhere near that house? “And….” I bring my mind back into my sentence, “and why should she have to choose to sign now? Why should anyone have to convince her?” I want to rattle on, but then I stop for a moment. Veronica. Sabrina was with Veronica on her first day. It makes sense now. I let out a low-registered, angry laugh. “Take it Veronica is on the sidelines acting as your little magical helper?” He blinks at me, then sighs.

“Yes.” he replies in almost a whisper. “Veronica is part-witch….like Sabrina. But she’s only there to inform me if Sabrina brings up the matter and needs advice. Nothing more….nothing less.” Bullshit, I think to myself. Hiram got away with marrying Hermione, a mortal, and now his daughter is fulfilling more of her witch-like duties to make Daddy happy. It’s no different than how he used the others back in high school. He’s going to be the reason Sabrina winds up back in Greendale and signs herself away to Satan. And he’s going to get away with it.

My lip quivers. I make my eyes roll again to keep them from tearing up. “Glad to know you haven’t changed, Hiram.” my voice croaks. I push my plate forward and rise up from the booth. A feeling of dread falls through me. My vision blurs for a slight moment, making my balance slightly off. I have to keep a steady hand on the table as I stand up. I’m not still sick from eariler…..am I?

“I am only doing what’s best for Sabrina.” Hiram looks up at me with a hurt expression, “I just want to keep the peace with the Church. It’s what I’m in Riverdale to do.” I push myself away from the table and head over to my broom leaning against the bar. He’s making up excuses for his actions, and I’m not here for it. I grab the broom and start to walk away when Hiram rises up and stands in front of me. He doesn’t reach out for me, but he keeps his hands in front, his same little “I’m not going to hurt you” gesture. He swallows a lump in his throat and speaks in a low voice, “I don’t want anything awful to happen to that young girl….or you for that matter.”

To be frank, I’m stunned. Now Hiram Lodge is concerned about me? I feel a hot tear roll down my cheek. I look at him and tighten my grip on the broom. “Since when did you have the decency to start caring about my well-being?” I mutter, my voice starting to crack. Above us, the lights start to flicker. I know my emotions are a little all over the place, but this flickering isn’t my doing. And I’m not sure if it’s him either. The thought of him using magic has my mind going back to high school. “Were you ever going to tell me, Hiram? About you being a witch?”

“I considered it, heavily.” he admits. “But being in a town where witchcraft is not so open as it is in Greendale, it’s a little hard to reach out to someone about that. And you can’t exactly open up to others about things like attending the Academy of Unseen Arts or going to Church gatherings for new Baptisms.” _ENOUGH OF THE EXCUSES_, my mind screams. He takes another breath and goes on “I thought I had been the only one…..until I met you. Well, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure at first when we met….but after that Halloween party….” he pauses, looking down at the ground. He must be caught in his head trying to piece when he figured out I was a witch.

There wasn’t any other times I could think of…..but there is one. Only one time I did use magic in front of Hiram. And it was the first time Hal and I worked together to get revenge on my classmates. Hiram looks back up at me, “And after that night with….whoever, or whatever that thing was you had with you.” I blink at him, the memories of that night coming back. My throat goes dry. All my memories with Hal flood in. This conversation needs to end. Now.

“I need to get back to work, Hiram.” I whisper, but it’s audible enough for him. Without another moment of waiting, I whip my head and start walking over to the other side of the diner. The lights continue to flicker heavily, but I’m not causing this. There’s an itch in my brain but I can’t clarify what is causing it. But it feels more than an itch, or even a headache; it’s like my brain is tearing in half. The itchy headache makes my bones shake, my hands stiffen, it’s becoming painful. It can’t just be from my magical outburst, or my recent wave of emotions. Something else is going on that I can’t identify. I inhale sharply through this odd sensation and go back into sweeping with tears in my eyes. Can’t I just have one damn night where I don’t have to be reminded of my past? Or of Hal?

“Alice, wait.” I hear Hiram hurrying his steps behind me. He joins my side. I barely make eye contact with him, but from a brief glimpse, his eyes are panicked. His lips trembling. “Alice….if there’s something going on that I can help with---”

“I don’t want your help!” I cry, my emotions slipping from my control again. My grasp on the broom tightens, but not to the point where it will snap again. The pain in my head gets worse, there’s a ringing in my ears….No. It’s a laughter. Hal’s laughter. The pain is growing and Hiram won’t leave me alone. I wince at the overload of everything. “Just….just….” I can’t form a coherent sentence. Hiram stays there paralyzed, not sure of whether to help me or to run away. In truth, I prefer he do the latter. I look at him, my anger building up. I’m tempted to use magic to throw him out or do something, but I’m scared of risking another wave of nausea, and…..whatever black or red substance was coming out of me. So I go to open my mouth, to yell at him to get the hell out and never show his face at Pop’s while I’m here, to never go anywhere near me or Sabrina….

The back door flies open. Pop takes a few steps into the main body and notices our stance. He stays silent, which I’ll take that as a good thing, then looks out the window. “Awfully cold out there tonight.” he comments. He glances into the kitchen, almost like he isn’t aware that Hiram and I nearly destroyed his dinner just minutes ago. Or even that I am on the verge of having a breakdown. “Well….guess no one else is coming in tonight. Better to pack up and---”

The lights completely go out. The power audibly goes too. Even the giant neon sign in the parking lot sparks out. Pop glances around nervously, and so does Hiram. I stay frozen in my spot. The air becomes like ice, I can see my breath clouds. For a moment, everything is still. We are all silent. Just for a moment….

A sharp wave of excruciating pain ruptures through me. It flows from my head all the way down through my body. My eardrums start pounding, a sharp laughter echoes in my head. I let out a scream. Finally, Pop stops and sees my panicked expression. “Miss Beauchamp? Are you alright?” He tries to come over, but Hiram keeps him away. He looks back and forth between me and Pop, not sure what to do. But I can’t concentrate on either one of them. My hands fly to my ears briefly, then they fall to my sides. Something is coming to my head. A vision, a hex, what the hell is this? My mouth hangs as my vision goes out and in, between the diner and…..

The house. It’s the Conway House. There’s an uproar inside. A figure slams through the walls uncontrollably. And I can feel a powerful trace of magic that had just been used….. No. No. NO. Stumbling through my blindness, I limp my way out of the diner and into the parking lot. I can’t see what’s in front of me, I’m still caught in my visions. The figure shifts at a rapid pace, muttering for something….someone, I don’t know who. The muttering grows louder, the figure turning to face me. Even in its unfinished form, I know its eyes. I know his smile.

He’s free. Hal is free. The figure in my vision goes through me, snapping me back into my current state out in the lot. I gasp for air, I want to cry, but my throat is dry. My body shakes. I’m beginning to lose my balance. Someone broke my binding spell. Hal is no longer bound. How is this possible? Oh no….did Sabrina find her way there? Did she use any magic? Was it someone else? Another rogue witch? Anybody?

The door opens behind me. I can hear footsteps running over. I turn my head, but even that motion starts to throw of my stance. Hiram slows his pace, just stopping a few feet in front of me. I blink at him, then look out into the pitch black sky. My thoughts race. Who could have done this? HAL IS OUT AND HOW COULD ANYONE KNOW----

I turn down to Hiram, my hands vibrating. My anger building up. There has to be another reason why he came here to see me. Was it to distract me while he had Veronica free Hal? Or anyone else for that matter? He remembers me, and has some knowledge of what I did, so he must know something. Why else would he want Sabrina to go back?

But my anger is not fulfilled, nor is my want to use a powerful hex or something to kill Hiram, because my eyelids begin to grow heavy. My knees start to get weak. My body is collapsing.

“Alice?” Hiram takes another hesitant step towards me, fearful of me having another on-the-verge-of-death moment in one night. Something comes out of my throat but I don’t know if it’s a word or a noise. I can feel a single tear fall from my eye.

“Hal….”

It’s the last thing I say before everything goes black, before I can feel my body hit the pavement.

XXXXXXXX

My mind stays in a state of blurry, horrific images and bright, flashing colors for a while. It’s like I’m trapped in the tunnel from the boat ride scene in Willy Wonka. I lost track of how long I’ve been out, I don’t even know if I’m still at Pop’s lying unconscious in the parking lot.

I’m not on the pavement, I’m in a bed. It’s not quiet or dark out. It’s a new day. The sunlight over above me wakes me up. My eyes flutter open and a migraine hits. I groan and push myself up. I’m back in my trailer, in the bedroom. How did I get here? I glance around the room, nothing has changed which is good. I turn to stretch out my neck and back, and notice that there’s a symbol on the headboard. I blink at it for a few seconds, then really glare at it. Someone drew a sigil over my bed. I reach my fingertips out to trace the lines. It looks like an upside down heart with a half circle facing up, and two lines going through. I’ve seen this before. I don’t remember where exactly, or when, my head is so clogged right now.

I don’t see the cat on my bed until I hear a low, grumbly meow. My heart almost flies out as I turn to find….a black cat looking at me puzzlingly. My breath quickens with my heartbeat. How did this cat get in here? And why does it sound like it’s growling at me? And….and why are this cat’s eyes a vaguely familiar blue-green?

“Salem, don’t be mean!” Sabrina enters the bedroom and scoops this new addition to the household into her arms. She continues to talk to the cat, “It’s just Aunt Ali. She’s looking after me. I told you that.” The cat lets out a short, disgruntled mew. Sabrina looks down at me and smiles. “Hey, you’re up!”

I struggle to find words and wind up groaning, running my fingers through my knotted hair. “What time is it?” I ask. What day is it, I wanted to blurt out. How many hours, or days, have I been knocked out for?

“Little after 9.” she replies. “Seems like you got a good night’s sleep. You were practically out last night when I got back, still in your Pop’s uniform.” I raise a brow at her. How late was she out for, and…. And I look down. I’m still wearing the yellow waitress dress. My “Wendy” name tag is still attached. The air gets chilly all of a sudden. And my eyes are still on that cat.

“Sabrina….” I start. She lets the cat down onto the carpet, and it prances off into the kitchen. She turns back to me and approaches the bed.

“Were you already back here when the power went out throughout town?” Sabrina questions me. My head’s still in a weird spot, but the memories of the night before are creeping back in, slowly but almost clear as day. There was a blackout. And Hal….. “I guess it came back when I showed up.” Sabrina continues to ramble on, “Sorry, I should have told you last night. But I was hanging out at the school with Veronica and Jughead, and then I met their friend, Archie. We drove around town for a bit….”

I just stare at her blankly. She’s talking so fast that her words sound rehearsed. Like there’s some bit about last night that she has yet to tell me about. The cat….Salem, I think I heard correctly, remains at the doorway. Its eyes glare into mine. My head might be playing tricks, but I swear I think it’s smiling at me. And there’s a little faint whisper, but I can’t make out the words. How did Sabrina find this cat in the middle of a blackout? And out of all the names in the world, why Salem? Sabrina takes note in my quiet state and stops her rambling. “Ali?”

“Sabrina…” I say her name again, my eyes still glued on the feline stranger in our doorway, “where did you get that cat from?” Her mouth closes a little. She looks back at the cat, then turns to me. She goes to explain---

There’s a banging on the door. Salem growls and prances out to the living room. The sound of my heart beating fills my head, pulses in my ear drums. Sabrina whispers my name in slight panic. I slowly rise from the bed and step out in front of her. Is it Gladys outside? Or FP? Hiram, even? Or….oh no, what if it’s Hal? Does he even know where I am and why I’m back? I leave the bedroom, step by step, the banging on the door starting up again. Sabrina says my name again. “Wait here.” I tell her as I reach the front door. My head is still so foggy that I can’t make out any auras of whoever is on the other side of the door. I take a deep breath, the air still feeling sharp as it goes through my nostrils, and open the door. I stare at the person on the other side, my mouth hanging the moment I realize who this is.

“Wendy Beauchamp?” the man in a sheriff’s uniform speaks. I don’t respond right away because, well I’m shocked. It’s Tom Keller, the Riverdale ROTC golden child. When did Tom Keller become the sheriff? Does this mean trouble for me? For Sabrina? At least my memory spell hasn’t been broken by the events of last night, because he sees me as Wendy, not Alice. Praise Sa…..Go….. praise somebody. Not able to speak, I nod my head. Sabrina comes to my side, holding a fussy Salem.

“Morning, sir.” she greets him. “Is….is everything okay?” she stutters. Odd. Despite the tone in her voice, Keller doesn’t seem to pick up on it. He just smiles at us.

“You ladies are fine. Just doing a check-in with all the neighborhoods in Riverdale. Quite the nasty blackout we had last night.” He starts to take notice of the trailer. I look back at the living room, realizing that a lot of what Sabrina and I have unpacked is all over the floor. A mix of her clothes and mine. Some of her schoolbooks. My books on witchcraft. MY BOOKS ON WITCHCRAFT.

“Everything alright, Miss Beauchamp?” Keller regains my attention. Salem grumbles in Sabrina’s arms….it’s like he’s growling at Keller. The sound makes my senses act up. Salem makes the sound again, and Keller eyes the cat. “And who’s this little guy?”

“This?” Sabrina stands baffled, then continues, “Oh! Um….this is Salem. He’s uh….a…..a stray. A stray cat I found.” Keller raises an eyebrow, and I don’t blame him. Her words come off disjointed. A shiver goes down my spine. Where did this cat come from?

“And how exactly did you find him in the middle of a blackout?” he asks the question that’s been in my head. I turn to Sabrina, hoping that I can read her thoughts if she is lying to Keller. That is, if I can clear my head up and get it together. A dull ache begins to form in my head. Sabrina is talking to Keller, explaining her night….something about this Archie Andrews kid and FP’s son, and finding the cat while driving around town. Or Salem found her. I can’t concentrate on her words, the pain in my head is throbbing.

I wince and rest my hand against the door frame to keep myself steady. Sabrina stops her story and turns to me. She goes to open her mouth, then closes it. She can’t say my real name around Keller. It’s me who breaks the silence. “Sorry….my head….it’s….” I have to stop because the pain is getting worse. It’s the side of my head that’s aching, where I collapsed on the pavement last night. My vision blurs the slightest bit, almost sending me to the ground. Keller takes a hold of my bicep. I know it’s meant to be a helpful gesture…..but it doesn’t feel helpful. At least not the way….I can’t believe I’m saying this…..the way it felt with Hiram.

“Miss Beauchamp, you should sit down.” he states in concern. He takes a step closer, almost entirely in the trailer. His closeness, and Sabrina standing nearby with Salem, makes me claustrophobic. But I don’t have the energy or the willpower to fight back and tell him to leave. I let Keller guide me over to the kitchen table. I let him help me sit down. I stay at the table going numb. The window above me shoots out bright grey.

“Water glasses are in that cabinet over there!” I can hear Sabrina directing Keller in the kitchen. I can hear the clanking of a glass and the water running. Salem chirps again, another wave of pain numbs my head. My eyes turn from the window to the cat. Sabrina notices. “Al….Wendy. I’m going to take Salem outside. Would that be okay?” I meet her gaze, my mouth going dry. I blink, then turn back to the window.

“Think you probably should.” Keller’s voice responds. “And….if you are going to keep that cat around, make sure he gets everything he needs, food, water, vaccines. You get the gist….uh….sorry. I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“Sabrina!”

“Sabrina, okay. The name’s Sheriff Keller. I think you’re in the same class as my boy, Kevin! Well, you better go take care of that cat. And welcome to Riverdale.”

“Thank you, Mister Keller.” she tells him, then speaks to me. “I’m gonna be back, okay?” I don’t answer, I don’t even look at her. I don’t see her leave with Salem. The door slams shut. The ache in my head dies down, yet I still feel a sense of dread. Guilt. I haven’t even been here for more than two weeks, and I’m losing touch with Sabrina. I’m letting Zelda and Hilda down.

The glass of water drops onto the table. I inhale at the sound, seeing Keller sit down at the table across from me. “Hopefully this helps. You want me to get you any painkillers?” I let out unsteady breaths as I look down at the glass, my throat going dry again. I reach for the glass, taking a giant gulp of water. I almost choke on the liquid, coughing slightly. I set the glass down and look back up at Keller.

“This is fine.” I squeak out. I try to think of nonverbal spells to get rid of this ache, but I don’t want to make it obvious. Besides, I don’t need Tom Keller snooping through my personal items, even if he is the Sheriff. A bit of water stays on the corner of my mouth, and I wipe it away.

“I’ve been meaning to stop by the diner, by the way.” he brings up. “To try out a slice of one of your pies. Have they been treating you good over there?” I’m not sure how to reply at first. My hand stays wrapped around the water glass, my fingers tapping ever so slightly. Keller’s voice fills the space once more, “The customers, I mean.” I blink at him and bite my lip.

“They’re fine.” I force myself to say. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve had a bad experience at Pop’s with rowdy customers. Except for that one kid who wanted the pie. Except for the chef who berated me before I even started my job. Except for…. Hiram.

“Were they any customers with you and Pop last night when the blackouts happen?” I hear the question, but I stay silent. My mind goes back to last night. It’s coming back to me, clearer than before. Hiram is a witch, and Veronica is too. He wants Sabrina back in Greendale into the arms of the Church of Night. He remembers me. He knows what I am. And….and Hal is…..

“Hiram.” Saying his name feels like sand in my throat. I look Keller dead in the eye and my hands shake. “Hiram Lodge was there.” I can see images from last night cutting from one to another. Me losing control of my magic. Vomiting up whatever that stuff was. Snapping at Hiram. Feeling Hal embrace his new freedom. My eyes mist up. Hal is free. He’s out of that house, and I’m still here in this damn trailer like a damsel in distress. Like I’m waiting for someone, or something, to pick up my mess, wrap up my bandages, give me a kiss and tell me to get it together. I’ve spent the past 25 years of my life avoiding that fate, and now it’s a reality.

“So you met Oz, the great and powerful.” Keller snickers, I guess in an attempt to crack a joke and lighten the mood. It doesn’t. He continues, “Yeah….I don’t blame you for getting weary. I don’t want to speak ill of another person, since his daughter is pretty good friends with my son. But….” he leans forward, his forearms resting on the table. He sighs and gives me a sorrow expression, “if I’m going to speak honestly, Miss Beauchamp, I’d be careful around him. I went to high school with him, and….he was quite the little manipulator. Tends to get what he wants very easily.” _Yeah, no shit_, I think to myself. “Just don’t want you to be led astray. You seem like a nice woman….”

His voice trails off all of a sudden. He takes a moment to look at me….like, seriously look at me. His eyes stare deep into mine. Then they dart up to my hair, then down to my lips, then back up to my eyes. He tilts his head in wonder. What is his doing? He looks away in attempt to process my features. And I’m frozen in my seat shaking.

“I’m sorry, I just…..” he goes on to explain, having to pause every few words, “Your…..your eyes are just….well, your whole face really…. I think….. You look familiar. Part of me feels….like I’ve seen you before.” The words make me tense up. I start breathing heavily in through me nose, out through my mouth. My misty eyes get watery. The imaginary sand stuck in my throat becomes thicker. Is this a sign of my binding magic no longer working? Has Hal being set free breaking the spells I set on this town?

Keller blinks, then shakes his head. “Probably just mistaking you for someone else. Get a lot of faces in this town.” He gets up from the table and looks out the window. I shut my eyes and sigh in relief. Good, the memory spell still works….but for how much longer? Keller turns back to me, “I better go check in on everyone else in this neighborhood, and then the rest of Riverdale.” He lets out a long sigh. He turns on his heel and heads towards the front door. I don’t get up to direct him out. I don’t get up to offer a pastry, or a drink, or even a proper gesture of goodbye. I stay in my numb state. Keller gives me a sad smile, “Take it easy today, Miss Beauchamp. Hope to see you around.” And with that, he leaves.

The door shuts fully, and I can take off the mask. I exhale, my voice shaking, and my hands go up to my face, covering my mouth, my fingers resting between my brows. My chest vibrates as I start to sob. I wind up covering my whole face with my hands, my emotions bubbling from the surface. The weight of my past crippling me. And Sabrina still doesn’t know the truth. Sabrina has to know. Somebody…..ANYBODY, well, anybody but Hiram or that girl of his, or even Keller, somebody just has to know. The inner panic sets in. How long can I go on letting this trauma affect everything in my life? Is everything I worked so hard to build up falling apart?

The feeling of utter helplessness weighs me down. My forehead falls to the table. My tears stain my cheeks. My crying fills the silence.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**  
Well, that was certainly a close call. The moment I take Salem outside, I set him to the ground and sigh in relief. I hate having to lie like that, especially to a Sheriff. I know I could have just used my magic to remove any memory of the words I said, or use some manipulation spell to have him turn around and walk away. But that’s something the Weird Sisters would do. It’s something Auntie Z or Hilda, or even Ambrose would do. I’m not them.

I hope Ali’s alright in there by herself with that Sheriff. She doesn’t look too well this morning. I still wonder how she got back to the trailer in this blackout. I wonder what caused her to pass out so early in the night. And why is Salem acting so weird around her?

“Penny dreadful for your thoughts, Sabrina?” Salem brushes up against my leg. I huff and walk down the steps of the trailer, stopping at the bottom and sitting down. My elbows land on my knees, my hands under my chin. Salem perches himself at my feet.

“Should I ask her about the Conway House?” I start thinking out loud. “Before you came to me last night, I saw symbols on the ground, in the dust. Somebody must have done a spell there years before. Maybe she might know about it.” Salem chirps in cat form and I can hear him laugh.

“Aunt Ali sure is something.” he throws out sarcastically. I roll my eyes.

“Come on, Salem.” I chastise my familiar. “I’ve known Ali for years. She’s one of the smartest and kindest witches I’ve met. I don’t get why you’re acting so…..” I stop for a second, looking for the right words to say, “fussy around her.” Salem sprawls out on the grass.

“I don’t disagree with you on her being a smart witch. Just think you have more potential.” His paws claw the air, like he’s trying to cut something in the air. I giggle and scratch his belly, feeling his silky fur between my fingers.

“I appreciate the compliment, but I don’t know enough about this town. About Ali’s past. And why….” I trail off. My head finishes, _And why Riverdale is not as supernatural as Greendale. V told me this town was a dead zone for magic. So how was Salem able to find me?_

“So you survived Sheriff Keller’s raid?” a voice captures my attention. I look up to find Jughead walking over to me. I stand up to greet him, Salem getting up from his lazy position too. “Did he ask you about your whereabouts last night?” He tilts his head up to the front door.

“Not really.” I answer. “Did….did you say anything about the….house?”

“What? Hell no.” Jughead snorts. “I mean, I told him about the article I’m writing, but not about the nightly adventures. Let’s just hope Archie and Princess don’t tattle on us.” I know the last part was meant to make me laugh, but Jughead’s nickname for V leaves me a bit unsettled. If only he really knew the type of person she was. If anyone knew really….what she and I could do….

The door behind us opens. Sheriff Keller appears at the doorway to my trailer. “Take it easy today, Miss Beauchamp. Hope to see you around.” He shuts the door and heads down the stairs, seeing us. “You two stay out of trouble until we figure out this whole matter.” he directs at us with a stern look. “That means you, Mister Jones. And tell your sister the same message.” Jughead gives the Sheriff a two finger salute and a smirk. Mr. Keller then looks at me, and in a kinder tone says, “Remember what I told you about the cat, okay?” I nod at him. Salem growls. Sheriff Keller heads over to his vehicle and drives off. The moment his car is officially off trailer park property, I exhale. I guess I held my breath for a while.

“I meant to ask you, by the way,” Jughead speaks afterwards, “Did you find anything in there that could help with the article?” I stay in my spot with my mouth hanging. Salem meows, and I look down at him for a brief moment. Jughead still doesn’t fully know how I got Salem. I redirect my gaze up to him.

“Not really.” I lie. “Just Salem, that’s all. But….nothing that will be good for your article.” I feel horrible. While I got a new friend and a familiar, Jughead got nothing out of the trip. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Maybe Veronica was right - the Riverdale Reaper is just another conspiracy theory to hyperfixate on.” He goes quiet, his head lowering. Salem purrs in content by my ankles. I look down at Salem again. He couldn’t have been the only thing to have come from the Conway house….could he? My thoughts start going. An idea comes to me.

I reach for Jughead’s shoulders. “You said that there were more murders, right?” Jughead raises a brow at me. I clarify, “That the Riverdale Reaper went after more than just the Conways? If...if he did go after the Conways?” Salem squacks in confusion.

Jughead finally catches onto my idea. “What are you suggesting?” I let go of his shoulders and continue, my thoughts taking reign.

“V told me that Riverdale was no place for anything supernatural….or, to hold ghosts like you had suggested. But….what if….what if there is? And it’s just not in the Conway home? Maybe….it’s where these other murders happened? Who says the Conway Massacre has to be our only source of information for your article on the Reaper?” He stays in his place not responding for a moment. Then, a wide grin forms on his face. He lifts a finger up at me in delight.

“Something tells me you came into Riverdale for a reason.” he exclaims. He’s partially right, I come to Riverdale for a very important reason, but not the one that’s on his mind. Nevertheless, I don’t think me jumping in to help and to share the same interests as him is purely a coincidence. “I knew you’d get it. I thought the same thing too at first, but the web wasn’t giving me much luck.” He lowers his finger at the last sentence. I can see him losing hope, then a thought comes to him. His face lights up.

“But that’s what small town libraries full of small town histories are for! Do you have a laptop on you?” My mouth hangs, I’ve never actually had my own tablet of any kind. I’m lucky that Aunties even let me have a phone. Jughead waves his hand, “That’s fine. We can use one of the desktops at the library. Just….go ahead and grab anything to write notes on, and meet me back out here in five minutes!”

He pats me on the shoulder and sprints back over to his trailer. I smile at his excitement. Below me, Salem growls. “I’d be careful about that one.” he tells me in a concerning tone. “He’s going to get into some serious trouble if he keeps falling down the wrong rabbit holes.” I take a deep breath and glare down at Salem, my hands resting on my hips.

“Why? You afraid he’s going to dig something up about you?” I joke. He slaunters down onto the grass and flails his paw into the air, hissing at Jughead’s trailer. “Besides….don’t you think it’s strange that out of all the supernatural stuff we could have found, you were the only resident of that house?”

Salem stretches out, then rolls onto the grass. “What can I say? I’m one of a kind.” He tilts his head and winks at me.

I shake my head. “Such a drama queen, Salem.” I head back up the stairs and open the door. The kitchen is empty. The living room is still in the same condition I left it this morning. And Ali is nowhere to be found. “Ali?” I call out. I leave the door ajar and glance around. I hear a faint sob coming from the bedroom. I take a couple of steps towards the bedroom door, which has been shut tight. I press my ear up against the door….why is Ali crying? Did Sheriff Keller say something to her that made her upset? I’m tempted to call out her name again, but I don’t want to startle her. The same way I was hesitant to tell her about the Conway House and finding Salem earlier. I want to share this information, but…. This whole trip to Riverdale, I guess, is making her so unhappy. I know she’s come back to help watch over me, but it’s hurting her. I’ve never witnessed her in this much upset before. It makes me feel so helpless.

I can’t keep Jughead waiting, though. Or Salem. Whatever history of Riverdale can help explain the unsolved murders, maybe it can explain what made Ali leave. Having to make up my mind, I hurry back over to the living room area, eyeing my school supplies and Dad’s charm on the floor. I slip the amulet around my neck, grab a notebook and my backpack, and head over to the kitchen table, tearing out a piece of paper. I reach for a pen and scribble out a note for Ali. I pin it on the fridge, hopefully she sees it…..if she does come back out. I shouldn’t be at the library to too long, I reason, because….what if she does something and needs me? I fumble with the charm as I take one last breath staring at the bedroom door. Then, sliding the backpack over my shoulders, I head out.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**  
I eventually wind up in the bathroom. The weight of my pain, my tears, becomes an overload. I get up from my place and slaunter into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me. My feet drag me into the bathroom, my fingers flicker on the little light above me - I could have used magic, but is it worth the risk of another nausea attack? I sob out loud, the sound of my cries echoing in the silence. My hands grip the sink, my tears platter onto the ceramic, my mind replays memories like a broken movie reel. I look at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are red. My cheeks bloated. My skin pale. The brunette roots of my hair starting to show through the nest that is my current blonde. I look ill.

My sobbing fit goes on. I think I hear the front door open. Someone calls for me, but I don’t make an effort to see who is waiting for me outside. The footsteps go away, the front door slams shut. The loneliness settles in once more. I think I’m getting hoarse from all this useless wailing, but I can’t stop. What was I thinking of coming back here? Why did I explode at Hiram like that? And Sabrina….why am I not doing better by Sabrina?

**Because you’re a coward, Alice**, another voice in my head replies. A voice that stands out, one that agonizes me. A**ll you know how to do is run away. All you know is to bury secrets like dead bodies. The only person you’re hiding from is yourself.** I stare at myself in the mirror, and he’s there. He smiles that smile at me. His eyes twinkle. His teeth like daggers.

I scream. I violently push myself away, and the mirror cracks. I turn my head. He’s not there. Just my head playing tricks on me. I look back at the now cracked mirror. Guilt sets in. So does regret, doubt, rage, fear…. I can’t keep living like this. I stumble out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, letting my body lead me into the kitchen. There’s a note on the table, next to my still full glass of water.

_ **Going to the town library with Jughead. Will be back later. Call me if you need me.** _

I pick the note up and devour each letter. Take in every little detail. She drew a heart next to the last sentence. I can feel it now, she was the one who came in. My fears of letting the Spellmans down take control. The letter crumbles a bit in my hands. Maybe that voice was right. All I do is keep secrets. Stay to myself. I’m leading Sabrina into danger by not telling her the truth…..

I turn to the living room. Sabrina’s notebooks and school supplies are on the floor. I slam the note down and grab for a notebook, my knees dropping to the carpet. I tear out a sheet of paper….multiple. My hand shakes as I click the pen open. I ramble in my words. My handwriting wobbles all over the place. I can’t make a coherent sentence. I have to keep crossing out words, putting lines through unfinished sentences, writing until I cover every corner and blank space on that page, and the other side. My tears fall onto the sheet, smudging up the ink. My fingers make the paper crinkle, the edges starting to rip. I’m caught up in a toxic trance that I don’t hear someone pounding on the door. My breathing goes heavy. My eyes bulge. My mouth stays open in fear.

“Hey! You alive in there, Alice?” I close my mouth and let a tear stream down. It’s Gladys. GLADYS. Maybe…..could she…..can I trust her? “Don’t worry, Cowboy Sheriff’s gone. It’s just me.”

I rush to a standing position, my vision blackening a bit from my blood running, and I shake as I twist the door handle open. Gladys doesn’t have her Pop’s uniform on, or her Serpent jacket. She’s in one of FP’s flannels and an old band t shirt. She doesn’t see my pained expression at first when she speaks to me, “Diner isn’t opening until later, but I didn’t know if Pop already told you---” she stops when she finally looks at me. My breathing becomes like huffing with this crying. I almost forget I have my unfinished confession to Sabrina in my hand. Gladys grows scared for me. “Woah….what the hell? Are you okay?” she takes a step towards me, her hand resting on my upper arm. I wince, not out of fear of her coming into the trailer, but fear in what might come out of my mouth. What I might end up saying to her.

“Gladys…. I….” I can’t finish. I teeter back a bit, scaring her. Gladys fully enters the trailer and shuts the door before she takes a soft but steady hold of me.

“Hey, what did Keller say to you?” she asks. I try to tell her it was nothing, that this episode has nothing, well not entirely, to do with Keller. “Okay, FP and I just wanted to make sure. We didn’t hear anything from you after the blackout last night. And….Pop called and said he can’t get the diner up and running. He wanted to see if you were okay, too.” I almost forgot Pop saw me in my panic attack last night. He was there too. I go to ask why, but the words are stuck in the quicksand formed in my throat. Gladys goes on, “Apparently….you fainted?”

“Not just that.” I sound weak. It was more than just fainting. If only she knew what else my body underwent.

“And….he said something….something about Hiram Lodge being there.” The sound of his name makes me stiff. My spine straighten. My eyes grow at her. She looks confused for a second. “Well….Pop said that he….got you away from Pop’s. It didn’t make sense to me at first, but then I remembered. After FP and I returned from our date, a little bit after the blackout before Jug and your girl came back….he was here. In this trailer park. He was carrying you.”

I’m stunned. I stare off into the distance in shock. It was Hiram who brought me back here. He got me out of Pop’s and brought me back into the messy comfort of this trailer. And….that sigil. Did he draw that? What does it mean? Why did Hiram do this? My eyes water up. My spirit crumbling.

Gladys goes from being concerned to pissed off. “Jesus. If Hiram tried to do anything to you, let alone lay one goddamn finger on you, I swear I’ll march my ass over to Pembrooke, and---”

“NO!” I stop her, the loudness of my own voice startling the both of us. I place my hands on her shoulders, my note now wedged between my palm and her shoulder, and sniffle. “No…. This doesn’t have to do with Hiram. Not entirely.” I have to stop before I go any further.

Normally, a witch would never confess to their identities to any regular human. It’s seen as taboo, potentially putting that witch and their community in danger. Well, I never felt like I belonged with the Church of Night. And as far as I know, Sabrina, Hiram, and maybe Veronica are the only witches to put in danger. But not because of confessing, but because of my own secrets. If anyone had to learn the truth of what I am and what happened to me, you would say I’d choose FP….but not yet. I don’t have the slightest clue as to tell him what happened to me. So for now, Gladys is the lucky winner on the horrific game show that is my tragic life.

I swallow the lump building in my throat. Then, I lead Gladys into the bedroom, walk her over to the bed, and sit her down, my note falling into her lap. She makes an effort to ask what’s going on, but I’m not listening. I leave her and the note there as I go to shut the bedroom door. The wood feels smooth on my palms. I rest my forehead against the door, breathing becoming more and more difficult. There’s a stillness in the air.

“Alice…..who’s Hal?”

My forehead comes off the door. I slowly turn my head. Gladys looks up from my note up to me. I’m not sure if she’s mortified or on the verge of tears. Maybe even both. But it’s an expression that I figured would be long coming. I take a deep breath and push myself away from the door. I face her for a second, and my eyes go down to my feet. Where do I begin?

I speak. “There are some secrets…..that are so painful,” I walk towards her with careful steps, “you not only hide them from the world…...but you hide them from yourself.” I stop, my mind searching for the rest of the words. Gladys rises from the bed and comes closer, stopping about an inch from me. She places her hands on my shoulders, I tear up again. I look into her eyes, “25 years ago…..I did something awful. And….and it made me do these….awful things…..it made me leave Riverdale, leaving FP behind…..and I’ve had to keep it a secret…..so NO ONE would know what happened. I wanted it to stay in the past…..but coming back here…...for Sabrina…..” I start to hyperventilate. This is probably the first time in 25 years that I have owned up to my demons. The first time I’ve opened the wounds I patched up. I fought to keep my past with Hal and with Riverdale in the past. Well, the past is certainly catching up to bite me now.

“Hey….hey hey hey, Alice, look at me.” Gladys brings her hands to my face and brings her forehead against mine. The gesture is soothing….but not enough to calm this tension down. “Breathe with me, okay? Smell the daisies. Blow out the candles.” I follow her instructions, taking a deep breath in, letting it out. She has me doing it for a couple more times. “You can do it. Daisies and candles.” she reminds me. Once I’m calmer, she lets go of my face, taking my hands into hers.

“Whatever….” she starts up, “whatever you have to get off your chest….whatever sin you think you need to confess to…. I’ll hear you out….. And I won’t tell anybody else…..not even FP, unless you want me to---”

“No…” I interrupt, “Not yet.” I go quiet again.

“Okay, I won’t tell him.” she responds. “I think you’re a good person, Alice. Regardless of whatever it is you’re about to tell me. And I want to help you. But….” she pauses. I grow the slightest bit panicked. She sighs and continues, “but you gotta tell me everything, okay? There’s a thing that FP and I say to the kids - “No more secrets. No more lies.” It’s cheesy, I know….but it works. So can you do that for me, Alice? Can you tell me the full truth? Everything you can remember from the beginning?”

I swallow another building lump. No more secrets, no more lies, it’s a motto I never thought about, even when processing my own thoughts. But Gladys is right - the only way I can ever move on from this…..maybe the only way I can help Sabrina is to break down the walls I built around myself. It may not be Sabrina or FP that I’m confessing to….but telling Gladys is a good place to start.

I take one more final breath, looking straight into her eyes. “No more secrets. No more lies.”

I tell her everything. I tell her about being a half-witch, and a half-Serpent. I tell her about going to the Conway House that Halloween night, and about Hal. I tell her of the classmates I hurt, of those Hal killed, and of those I tried so hard to save. I tell her of binding him, placing the memory spell on Riverdale, and leaving without giving FP the goodbye he deserved. I tell her of my life on the run as a nomadic witch, finding my way to Greendale, working in the bakery, and how I met Sabrina. I tell her of the Dark Baptism, the real reason for Sabrina coming here and me having to return. And….I tell her of what really happened last night. And how my worst fears are coming true.

“And….and now he’s out.” my voice is starting to go out, but I need to finish my confession strong. “Hal is out of the house again, and I don’t know who went there and broke my spell. I don’t know if it was Sabrina, or another witch Hiram hired, or someone from Greendale….but…..” But what? I think to myself. If it was Sabrina or someone else, how would I know? How would I go about finding this person, Hal’s new victim, and explain to them that he should not be trusted? But what if he already began to corrupt that poor witch? How could I help them if it’s already too late?

“I’m lost.” I confess with a sob. “I feel so goddamn helpless. And I don’t know what I’d do if Hal ever found Sabrina and hurt her. Or anyone else. I don’t want anyone to repeat the same mistakes I did, because what I did….what I have to do….it hurts. Everyday I think about what I went through….and….and I can’t make those thoughts go away. I can’t heal this pain. I just keep letting everyone down. The Spellmans. My classmates. Even FP.….” I think about the words that taunted my brain in those minutes before Gladys showed up. The horrible, intrusive thoughts….they come out of my mouth. “I’m a coward. All I know how to do is run away. Bury my secrets like they’re dead bodies. The only person I’m running from….is myself.”

I end my speech. My cheeks are stained from dried tears, and newly formed tears. My throat scratches. And yet, a makeshift weight….at least a little bit, has been lifted from my shoulders. I wipe my tears away to distract the nasty thoughts running through. But it’s quiet. Too silent. I look at Gladys….she’s motionless sitting on my bed. Her expression is blank. It’s making me concerned.

“Gladys?” I utter her name. She remains staring out into nothing. My anxiety flares. “Gladys….please just say something!” She looks at me, her face still expressionless. She lets out a long sigh, clamping her mouth shut rather quick.

“Well, Alice…..I can’t really say I’m surprised.” My heart races. What is that supposed to mean? I go to open my mouth, but she clarifies, “About you being a witch.” My lips form a tight line. The rapid beating of my heart slows. She knew what I was? How? I never tried to make it that obvious, neither did Sabrina. I stand there in confusion. She gets up from the bed and makes some hand gesture at the clothes on the floor. “No offense, but….your whole hippie wardrobe kind of says it. And….I saw some of the books you and Sabrina had lying around….about spells and all those herbal remedies.” Her hands fall in front of her, the back of one hand resting on the other’s palm. She looks down, eyeballing her wrist. Her wrist….she has Ourosboros on it.

Gladys pulls back the cuff of the flannel and her hairbands, revealing the tattoo once more, and holds it up to me. She walks over to allow me a closer glance. “Also,” she sighs once she approaches me, “out of everyone on the Southside….no one that I’ve met knows what this means. Not even FP really knows…...But you did.” She lowers her wrists a bit, and I reach out for it. The tip of my fingernail traces the outline of the snake. She said it had something to do with her family. Her life in Toledo…. WAIT…. Does…..does it mean that….

“Did your daddy ever tell you the history of the Serpents?” Gladys mutters. “You ever learn how they wound up in Riverdale? How they formed?” I stare at her blankly. I never had a good relationship with my dad. My initiation process left me so weak that I don’t think I ever bothered to learn about Serpent history. I don’t think I ever really wanted to identify as a Serpent. Even after I left town. But now…. There had to be a reason Gladys left Toledo to spend her adult life here, start a family with FP. That tattoo can’t just be some family heirloom.

“Okay.” Gladys takes my hand and walks me back over to the bed. “You confessed your truth. Guess it’s my turn.” She plops down next to me, trying to think of the right words to say. My gaze is still on her tattoo. The more I stare at it, I think the more I realize I’ve seen it somewhere in my books. Somewhere that explains some history of witchcraft…..but where exactly? My eyes go from staring at the tattoo to her face. She exhales and starts her account of Serpent history.

“The thing about retelling history, and explaining the origins of certain groups….a lot gets left out simply due to the lack of information….or people who just don’t feel like owning up to their history. What tends to get left out in the history of witchcraft and the covens that were formed back then is those groups…..those witches that were marginalized. Non-white Native American witches, if we’re going to be honest. Not only were their tribes getting wiped out by European settlers…..but they were getting persecuted by their own people. They saw these witches as “nonpersons” or “dead”. When Native American tribes were dealing with European settlers before the colonies were formed, they feared that these witches in their communities would bring more strife….break the traditions and the lifestyle they worked on to preserve. You thought the Salem Witch Trials in Massachusetts caused an uproar? What went down in these tribes was just as ugly….if not, even worse.” I stay silent, my thoughts wandering. I’m stunned that I never read about these tidbits in my own history books on witchcraft. I don’t think I ever saw any of this in the books Sabrina and her aunts own.

Gladys goes on, “So with the colonies getting established, and the influx of slaughters happening, these Native Americans grew more paranoid….they became more determined to weed out those who had the craft for the sake of nativism. It dwindled down their population even more. The roots of ancient witchcraft and their mythologies getting erased. But not all of it. Those who did survive the persecutions….they banded together. Moved up north and found a new home. They realized that the only way they could survive what was coming for them, they had to create something powerful….use a symbol that could bring them the protection they needed.” She pauses, lifting her wrist up, the tattoo more prominent than ever.

“The Uktena is what the Cherokee call a Horned Serpent. It’s a dragon-like creature that resides in the water. Its features and size are what make people afraid to go near it. Those who were brave enough to go and slay one of these bad boys….there have only been myths and stories. But this creature is so deadly….it’s rare to survive going after it. These Native witches looked up to the Uktena as a symbol of unity…..a deity to put it in witch-terms. So, they formed a coven around this creature, created laws, built families and values….they did this to protect themselves from the world. They didn’t start letting any other outsiders in…..white settler witches to clarify…..until around the 1800s. White families who displayed the same values, practiced the same craft, became allies of the Uktena. They were allowed to initiate in, perform the rituals…..just as long as they upheld the laws of the coven.

“Problem is with letting outsiders in….there will be those who want to branch out. Rework the core values that fit their own needs. And that happened to the coven. When Thomas Topaz, a descendant of the founders, and a group of white Uktena members came to Riverdale in its founding in the 1940s, they came for the purpose of expanding the Uktena’s territory…..finding other witches that could join. Well…..one of those members got power hungry and….decided to shake things up. Thomas Topaz went back to where the Uktena were located….”

“Toledo.” I answer. Gladys nods.

“Yeah….the Uktena’s homebase is Toledo.” she gives a soft smile. “But when Thomas went back….the others didn’t go back. They realized they could form their own version. Find whoever they wanted. Change the values and traditions…..” she goes quiet, her smile fading. My heart breaks for her. She seems so rooted, so connected to family. How did she get stuck here? “It wasn’t just Riverdale that these warped factions of the Uktena were popping up in. It was happening all over. When the Uktena heard wind, they were half-tempted to destroy these factions from the inside out. Excommunicate these families that had nothing to do with these outbreaks. The only way these families could still prove their loyalty was if they sent out family members….those who upheld the values, to try and change the factions. To bring them back to the ways of the Uktena.” Her fingers curl into her palm. I’m still in a state of shock, but it all makes sense now.

“That’s why you came here?” I throw out the question. “Your family….they sent you to represent the coven?”

“Pretty much.” she answers, the tone of her voice growing sadder. Nostalgic. “My family’s built a strong alliance with the Uktena for decades. They’ve held the same values…..did the same rituals…..and the craft…..well, my family’s got the craft in their blood…..” And you? I want to ask. The answer is obvious before she says it out loud, “I didn’t get so lucky in that department.” She shuts her eyes, I can see a tear coming down one side. I’m speechless. A family full of magic and she’s the only one that doesn’t have an ounce of it in her? But she’s so loyal, so dedicated….

Gladys wipes the tear away and continues, “I heavily considered just going back to Toledo a few months after coming here. The way the Serpents acted when I showed up…..the tattoo I got on my back, I had to get it here so I could blend in…. I felt lost. I knew I didn’t belong. But I had to keep reminding myself that I was here for a purpose. That my lack of witchcraft shouldn’t diminish my loyalty to the Uktena. So I stayed….for my family back in Toledo….” her voice waivers, her eyes getting misty. “Besides…..if I had gone back….I never would have met FP. Jughead and Jellybean wouldn’t even been in our lives….. Still….” She stops. I guess the thought of her family both here and in Toledo scares her. I don’t mean to, but I read her mind. See her thoughts. She’s bound by family to be here. She wanted to find happiness, which she did with FP, because….he was just as at-war with himself as she was coming here. In a way….she’s just like me. Stuck making choices for the sake of family. And having to look at a tattoo everyday to remind herself….

A realization hits me. My free hand goes to my upper thigh. I forgot I still have my Serpent tattoo, after all these years. It’s a snake in an S-form taking up the space of my lower hip and upper thigh. SOUTHSIDE is printed in between the curves. Even through the fabric, I can feel the outline on my finger tips. Where the snake starts, where the words end…..the patch of my skin that burned when I tried to have it removed….when Hal tried to remove it.

_I never really brought up my Serpent tattoo to Hal much. He knew of it. He saw it when we had sex. He never had a real good look at it until one night when we were in bed. I could feel the tinge of his power, his demonic nature, vibrate through me when he traced his fingers along the outline._

_“How old were you when you got this?” his question pierced through the silence between us. It had been a long day, and even after our time together, I was drained. Exhausted. It was the last thing on my mind. I sighed and turned more into him._

_“A couple of days after my initiation.” I responded. I got it about three or four days after my ill-fated 13th birthday that bound me to the Serpents. The memories of that night, the song I had to dance to, the coldness of the pole that chilled my half-naked body, still haunted me. It made me hate everyone in that gang, and it made me hate myself. “I wanted to get it where I knew no one else would have to see it. Where I don’t have to see it.” I could hear him snicker against me. His thumb pressed against the head of the snake, on my hip bone._

_“Then why do you still have it?” he went into a deep tone that spooked me a little. I saw his eyes glowing in the darkness of my room. I had to turn away from him, even though his thumb was still pressed against my tattoo. He went on, “You know I can get rid of it for you, if it is making you that unhappy.”_

_“It’s not just that, Hal.” I huffed, staring up at my ceiling fan. He made a valid point - I was unhappy with this ink permanently on my body. I could get it removed….but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know enough spells at that time to remove something major like that, nor did I know of anyone that could aid me. He must of read my thoughts, because he brought his fingers to my jawline, gently tilting my head down to meet his gaze. His eyes were determined….mysterious. His mouth was in a straight line. His fingers went back down to my tattoo, pressing down harder._

_“You know what I’m capable of, baby.” he spoke calmly, yet his fingers radiated with an aggressive heat. A burning sensation that made my flesh and bone feel raw. “I came to you because I wanted to take away your pain. And clearly….” his fingers pressed down harder, my skin felt like it was on fire. “This is bringing you pain.”_

_I moved his hand away from that area of my body, the burning sensation fading. I led it up to my waist and curled up more into him. I was too tired in that moment to go through that. “Not now, Hal.” I mumbled into his shoulder. “Let me sleep on it.”_

_It wouldn’t be the last time he offered to take the thing off me. Before it all went wrong, before the car crash that set up Hermione Gomez’s fate, Hal did make an attempt to remove it. His hand burned the area of flesh where the Serpent’s head was. Where the word SOUTHSIDE started. It made me scream, my skin was red and bubbling, the ink felt like hot wax. Poison. It hurt me to the point that I had to yell at him to stop. That I pushed him away. He said the tattoo was causing me pain…..but he was causing me pain too. Only I realized the latter too late._

I forget sometimes it’s there. I don’t like changing in front of mirrors much, so I only see the tattoo when I lay in the bath, or slide on undergarments. It feels more like a dirty little secret more than a memory of my past. I’m quick to cover it so I don’t get reminded of him, or of Riverdale. I don’t want to look at the scar Hal left. I can still feel the burn every once in a while, but only if I think about it. And now I’m thinking about it.

A little heat comes from that area. I can feel it now through the fabric of my uniform. It’s not painful, but it is irritating. I let go of Gladys and stand up, heading into the bathroom at half speed. I realize I haven’t properly examined the tattoo in days. Months. I never thought to look at it until now. Is it acting up again because of his release? Is my mind just playing a cruel trick to make me more paranoid? My fingers curl at the hem of my uniform, and I slowly raise the skirt, up my thigh, up my hip, holding the fabric in a ball at my ribcage. Through the cracks of the mirror, I glance in horror.

The snake is still there. Where the head once was is an irritated patch of black and red. SIDE is the only full word, the SOUTH part having been violently burned too. Everything else is still intact, yet…. The ink of this tattoo. Something’s off with the ink. I figure my tattoo would have started to fade right now, but the ink is standing out. What was black is almost now a mirage of black, blue, purple, and blood red. There are black veins sprouting from the sides. The same color as what came out of me last night. I swear the ink is pulsing along with my heartbeat.  
I have no words. I feel all emotions. It’s frightening and beautiful.

Gladys appears on the corner of my reflection, standing at the doorway. I release the fabric of my skirt and turn to her. She must have seen enough of the tattoo, because I can see the fear in her eyes. Her gaze goes from where my tattoo is back up to my face. “Did….did he do that to you?”

Another wave of tears stream down my face. Half in amazement that I told Gladys the whole truth, and half in agony that I really noticed my tattoo for the first time in a while, my emotions slip from my control. _Daisies and candles_, I tell myself. _Daisies and candles_. I can’t believe that Gladys hasn’t run away, or told me that I’m lunatic or a monster for what I did. And she’s willing to keep this secret….even from FP, at least until I’m ready to admit the truth to him. I stare at the other woman in front of me, seeing into her past, her present….

I’ve never allowed myself to make many friendships since leaving Riverdale. Despite how long I’ve known Sabrina and her family, I don’t consider Hilda or Zelda to be true, close friends, not even Ambrose. Sabrina is the only one of the bunch I’m close with because of her innocent nature, I see myself in her. Sabrina’s the closest I’ve had to a family….a friend…. It finally occurs to me how lonely I am. How helpless I am on my own trapped by my demons. Stuck in the past. It dawns on me. Maybe Gladys is my friend. My first real friend in a real long time.

I walk over to Gladys and throw my arms around her, letting myself melt in a tight embrace. I sob into her shoulder as she holds onto me. She’s crying too, I can feel the tears against my shoulder. Maybe I did make the right choice by telling Gladys. Maybe it was a good thing she told me about the true history of the Serpents….and that we have both gone through hell for the sake of family. We’ve been through a lot on our own, only having FP and our roots to the Serpents as a common denominator. But sharing our truths has brought us closer now. And I need somebody to hold me accountable. To keep me going. To help me move past this.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**  
The crisp morning air chills me as Jughead, Salem, and I walk through town to get to the library. Salem’s still a little weary of Jughead, so he stays along the outskirts, brushing up against the outer part of my leg, reminding me of his presence. Jughead spends our time walking rattling off ideas for the article. He’s thinking about looking up other notorious serial killers and using that information to track down the Riverdale Reaper’s pattern.

At least that’s the gist I got from only half-listening. My mind is still on Ali back in the trailer. Crying in the bedroom all by herself. I’ve never heard her sound that upset. I don’t think I ever have witnessed Ali in so much distress. She always seemed to have a smile on her face. Even when customers at her bakery were rowdy and childish, she still greeted every one of them the same. She had such a glimmer in her eyes. But now that I look back on it….there’s a tint of sadness in her gaze. A tired, broken record projecting her voice. A mask she has to wear each day.

I think Ali is depressed, and has been since the day I met her. She fights to wear a brave face, but she’s hurting. She goes to the same parties as me, but she just wants to retreat into the walls she’s built and let no one in. And….I think being back in Riverdale and going through places that remind her of her past is weighing down on her. She’s so sad….and I don’t know what to do to make her happy. I don’t know how to help her.

“Hello? Hello? Earth to Sabrina?” Jughead waves at me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I shake my head straight, then turn to him. “You okay?”

“Sorry, Jug. I….I was thinking about Aunt Ali.” I admit to him, letting out a sigh. “I didn’t get much of a chance to check in with her this morning before Sheriff Keller showed up.”

“Yeah, law enforcement isn’t too friendly with us over on the Southside.” Jughead snickers. “Not that I’m identifying myself as a Serpent! But still…..they’re part of family. Even if they’re not blood.” he trails off, shoving his hands into his pockets. He gets back onto the subject of Ali, “Why? Did she get sick last night or something?” I face the road in front of me. Did Ali get sick? Was that why she wasn’t up when I came back?

“To be honest….I don’t really know.” I confess. The thoughts of her state of emotional being enter my brain again. I continue, “She’s just been…..not like herself since we came here. She has this look of sorrow whenever we go somewhere she knew about. The job at Pop’s gets her interacting with people, but she still gets so quiet….” I pause for a moment, looking back at Jughead. And then there’s Ali and Jughead’s dad…..and whatever history they have. But I don’t say that out loud. “I think that whatever happened to her all of those years ago is hitting her extremely hard. But she doesn’t want to tell me because….because….” I stutter. Why hasn’t Ali still told me about her life here? Why hasn’t she told me what caused her to leave? What is making her so sad?

Salem’s tail curls around my calf, which takes my mind off the negativity of the conversation. Jughead’s voice echoes, “Maybe she just needs some time to get used to it all. Being back in Riverdale again.”

“Maybe.” I look down at Salem and allow myself to smile a bit. With one motion, I scoop Salem into my arms and he meows. “What do you think?” I speak directly to him, causing Jughead to laugh in the background. “You think I can help Aunt Ali out?”

“Well…” Salem sighs in frustration, “you know my opinions about the woman. Besides…..it’s gonna take her a while to get over this….thing that happened.” His word choice confuses me a little. I raise my brow at him. “So I suggest you just let her be and keep to yourself.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and let Salem free. Jughead shoots me a perplexed look.

“So you’re a part-time cat whisperer? Any other weird facts I need to learn about you?” he teases. I cackle and trot down the road. We continue on our path for a bit longer until we get through downtown. Realizing that neither one of us grabbed breakfast at the trailer park before heading out, Jughead and I make a quick stop to a coffee shop close by the library. The shop is a little smaller than Ali’s bakery, and not as bright and colorful. There’s teens everywhere. I’m shocked that this little place is open after the blackouts, and not Pop’s. Luckily, Jughead and I are able to squeeze in and grab ourselves a drink and a small pastry. We’re about to leave this shop when someone stops us.

“Sabrina!” a voice halts us. I turn to find a boy hurrying over to me. I stare at him for a bit….have I seen him before? “Sabrina, that’s your name, right?” I nod, trying to figure out where I’ve seen this person. He’s got a Bulldog letterman jacket on. A teammate of Archie’s? But I haven’t seen him with Archie, or V. His dark hair doesn’t give me much to work with, but his face….his face looks familiar. And so does the sound of his voice. It hits me. The boy from Pop’s that was angry about the pies. The boy that led Ali to get her job.

“You probably don’t remember, but….” the pie boy stutters, “look, I really just wanted to say….that I’m sorry for how I treated you….and your mom that day at Pop’s. Wait---no, not your mom, legal guardian…”

“Yeah!” I clarify for him, my anxious mood fading away at this boy’s kindness. “And you’re totally okay! She’s not mad….if that’s what you were wondering.”

“Good.” he exhales in relief. Another thought comes to him. He takes a moment to extend his hand out to me. “Sorry. I don’t think I had the chance to introduce myself. Moose Mason.” I take his hand in awe…..a boy named Moose? Must be a nickname like Jughead, or something.

“MOOSE!” a new voice breaks our moment. Coming into my peripheral vision, a short girl with pixie brown hair latches onto to Moose….wait. It’s Midge Klump, the head of the River Vixens. She let me onto the team….well, she was reluctant until V convinced her to allow me to join. Not paying attention to Jughead or me, she looks up to Moose, “Worried that you ran off, sweetie.” She smiles at him, and I realize that Moose is her boyfriend. Midge then acknowledges my presence, her smile fading into a smirk. “Oh. Hi, Sabrina.”

I wave to her uncomfortably. “Hi Midge. Don’t worry….Moose was just apologizing for what happened at Pop’s. Nothing major.”

“Fair enough.” she gives me a quick answer. Moose, a little on edge, turns down to his girlfriend.

“I’m gonna get the car started, okay, babe?” he mumbles. The two kiss and he leaves, bidding farewell to Jughead behind me. The door clanks shut, and Midge huffs.

“Sorry. Moose tends a little flaky.” she watches her boyfriend go before redirecting her gaze at me….and surprisingly at Jughead too. “I hope….that he wasn’t interrupting your date with Jughead.”

The comment causes my mouth to hang. Jughead gets defensive behind me, saying that we’re not together. I jump in to ease the tension, “Oh no! We’re not…. I’m just…. I’m helping Jughead out with an article. For the Blue and Gold.” I stop talking. Midge tilts her head slightly, one eye brow raised.

“So you’re also with the Blue and Gold?”

“In case you were curious, Midge,” Jughead comes over next to me as he addresses the other girl, “It’s the 50th Anniversary of the Riverdale Reaper murders, and it’s important information to get out to the town. I wouldn’t be able to tackle it all on my own---”

“Which is why I’m helping!” I finish his thought. “And I know some sources from Gree…..from where I came from, that could maybe connect some missing pieces. Find any new information that could explain how the Reaper could get away with it.” Midge remains silent, glaring back and forth between us. Salem chirps, grabbing all of our attention. I almost forgot Salem was here too.

Midge smiles a tiny bit. “Such a pretty kitty.” she coyly comments before she speaks to me again, “Sounds interesting….this article. Hopefully it doesn’t consume much of your time….with schoolwork and everything. And Vixens practice.” Her tone leaves me unsettled. I was little intimidated by Midge when I met her, but I….I had no idea she would be in this demeanor. But how would she be any different from Prudence Blackwood? Or the other Weird Sisters?

Jughead leans in. “I’m….gonna go wait outside.” He gives a little wave to Midge before he leaves. I’m still by the doorway, Midge looming over me, Salem keeping me anchored by my feet. Midge takes a step in and sighs.

“Look, Sabrina…..” she begins, making an effort to sound sympathetic. “I know you’re the new girl. I know you haven’t had much time to adjust to Riverdale High culture. It’s tempting to want to join every club you can. Expand your boundaries.” She stops for a second, working out the words in her head. She doesn’t need to say it, I know where this conversation is going. “I only want to make sure you don’t lose sight of your priorities. Everyone’s priorities are different, of course….mine just happens to be the Vixens. I’ve worked very hard to become the Head Vixen, and I want to see all my girls do well. Even you.” She takes another step in, placing a hand on my shoulder. Salem growls at this touch. My breathing slows a bit. Midge purses her lips together before continuing, “I’m willing to put forth effort to help you become a great addition to the team….you just have to put in the same effort. Okay?” I zone out for a second, holding my breath. She didn’t have to say it, but it’s obvious - she doesn’t want me being distracted by this article with Jughead. With hesitation, I nod. Midge smiles and releases her hand from my shoulder.

“I better go find Moose. See you around, girl!” she perks up before walking past me, letting the door fly open as she leaves. I let go of that breath and hang my head. Salem’s tail curls at my ankle.

“Wow….what a bitch.” Salem comments. “Glad to know the Vixens haven’t changed.” My head lifts a little. How would my familiar trapped in an old house know anything about cheerleaders? Let alone how they behaved? I look down at Salem, his bright eyes have a little mischievous tint to them.

“How do you know about the Vixens?” I inquire.

“Let’s just say that being around Riverdale for a while has…..educated me on the kind of people that reside here.” His tail releases my ankle as he heads for the door. Odd answer, I think to myself. It’s almost like….he’s dodging the question or making up something to…. I snap out of it. Oh well, guess I better get back to Jughead and get to the library.

Midge is right. I should get my priorities straightened out. And right now, my priorities are helping Jughead learn about the Reaper, finding a way to make Ali happy….and figuring out how in the world I’m going to handle Salem.

** _XXXXXXXX_ **

** _End of Chapter Three_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.....does this mean Sabrina is bound to make the same mistakes as Alice??? We'll just have to wait and see.. ;)


	5. Trick or Treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peek a boo! Happy Thursday! Here's another chapter to feed you children up until Thanksgiving!
> 
> Heads up - this chapter does contain material that is related to non-consentual sexual situations. If this makes you uncomfortable, skip to the end of the chapter or feel free to not continue. If you or an acquaintance is dealing with this topic, please reach out to someone or message me. Thank you, and happy reading.

** *****WARNING this chapter contains material related/alluding to non-consentual sexual situations. If this makes you uncomfortable, skip to the end of the chapter or feel free to not continue. If you or an acquaintance is dealing with this topic, please reach out to someone or message me. Thank you, and happy reading.***** **

** _XXXXXXXX_ **

**SABRINA**

If there’s one thing I miss the most about Baxter High, it’s the library. At Baxter, Roz, Susie, and I could get lost for hours scouring through the classics collection, the history section, everything in between. Not that the Riverdale Public Library is subpar, but it looks a little run down, not as well loved. The only breathing bodies that could think of inhabiting the space are the nice old ladies that want to re-educate the youth, and kids like me and Jughead, who don’t follow most norms among teenagers. As a matter of fact, Jughead and I are the only younger people in this library today, with the purpose of doing research. Out of the wide variety of seating options, we choose a table closest to “Psychology and Sociology” - he thinks we can study into serial killers and see if we can find a pattern. He has me select some books out of this section while he ventures off to find books on Riverdale’s history from the 1960s.

My fingers trace over the titles, the indents for each word. I wonder if the library includes anything about witchcraft, or anything supernatural. I wonder if there are books that can teach me how to work with Salem; he’s nothing that I thought a familiar would turn out. Back in Greendale, I read that familiars aid witches in their magical rituals, and they offer protection against any harm. Well, Salem definitely could help with my magic. But protecting me from mean girls like Midge and outsiders like Jughead? The logic makes no sense.

For now, I grab some books on killers, like Charles Manson and the Zodiac Killer, and make my way back to our table. Jug has a pile of books stacked next to his laptop, where he’s typing at lightning speed. He pauses for a moment to hand me the first book on top of his stack. “Here, start looking through this one so you get an idea of the town’s history.” I take the book, examining the front cover. It’s an overhead shot of the town in black and white. There’s no view of Pop’s or the trailer park, but I can easily make out the school and the library. I peel open the book, a wave of dust spiraling which causes me to cough. A moment later, I start to read.

Riverdale was founded in 1941 by a General Augustus Pickens (Jughead pointed out Pickens Park on the way over here). The town was divided into two sides - north and south. The northside holds more of the wealthier families, and the southside….well, everyone else. The book only explains a generic history of the town, but nothing related to our case. I would have thought Riverdale would have been founded sooner with this land. 1941 seems a bit too recent.

“Does this explain how it even got established?” I ask him out of the blue. He stops typing and sighs, turning to face me.

“Not in that book….not in any book written by the founders.” he admits. “See, Pickens and his pal, Barnabas Blossom, took over the land in the 1940s to build the ideal American Dream town, wiping out anything they thought didn’t fit their image. That’s why we got the divide between Northside and Southside.” I continue flipping through the book. It just goes on with discussions of financial developments, lands to use for suburban communities…..but nothing about the events of the Reaper. No death counts, no evidence, no aftermath….. It’s like this part of the town’s history has been erased.

“Then how does the Reaper enter the story?”

“That….” Jug drums his fingers onto the table with a grin on his face. “is what we are going to uncover.” He goes back to his typing, leaving me confused. Wanting a clearer answer. I close the book in frustration and lean back in my chair. Below me, Salem nuzzles into my calf, his fur bringing a sense of warmth. The thought of Salem’s presence…. If these books don’t have my knowledge, or Jughead’s, maybe the internet would. I sit up and look at Jughead’s computer.

He catches me examining his computer and smirks. “Don’t worry,” he reassures, “this research has a purpose.” I nod my head at him slowly.

“Take it you’re heavily into the supernatural.”

“It’s something I’ve taken interest in lately. Just don’t vocalize it, ‘cause….you know, friends judge. I know Veronica and I rank on Archie for his music, but this….” He stops for a second, clicking on a tab to open it. I peer over his shoulder to read the page. The article mostly consists of sketches of demonic figures, some of which I’ve seen from my own books, and where they reside. Is it possible that Riverdale could harvest demonic elements that’s preventing any other type of magic from entering the town?

“This could change how people view Riverdale.” He taps on the screen. His finger falls to the keyboard, and his smirk fades. “It’s just a matter of getting people to believe it.” Jughead goes quiet. He obviously does show a passion for this subject, but he doesn’t have the resources to help him. Well….he didn’t, until I came in. Salem growls at my feet, making me glance down at him. I drum my fingers on the table, coming to a decision. Salem may be right – Jughead might be going down a rather intense rabbit hole, but he shouldn’t go through it alone. Not with me around. I look away from Salem and back up at Jughead.

“I believe it.” I say out loud, catching his attention. I shift in my seat with my confidence growing, “If there really is something in Riverdale, causing the town’s history to get wiped out, we can bring it back. We can find the truth. And we can make people listen.” The words coming out of me feel forced. A sense of darkness swells, a fog entering my brain. I can’t tell what it is, but it makes me stop talking. **_Yes, Sabrina_**, a voice echoes in my eardrums. I swear I’ve heard this voice before. A familiar voice that’s dropped in its pitch…..it’s almost sinister. **_You can make them listen. You can change history_.**

I blink, waiting for the sensation to roll over. Salem meows. I look down only to find him licking his paw. I shake my head and pick up one of my serial killer books. “But we’ll start with the basics, obviously.” I add in, starting into the first chapter. Jughead chuckles next to me.

“Works with me, new girl.”

We continue researching for a couple more hours, me scouring through a quarter of the books from the psychology section, and Jughead filling up half a notebook’s worth of notes from his demonology article. Around noon, my morning coffee is drained, my brain still has some of the fog, and I’m getting bored. I tap my pen on the table while reading about….to be honest, I’m not sure what this book is about. I’ve lost so much interested. Salem’s asleep at my feet, and Jughead’s still going at it. I’m tempted to ask if we can go out for a break, or to at least pick back up our research tomorrow. I just need a break, or some reason to get up and stretch my legs.

My phone buzzes in my coat. Salem stirs awake at the noise. I reach for my phone and smile at the notification.

**From V: Are you busy right now? I need to get your opinion on something. Come over to my place!**

“Everything okay?” Jughead snarks. I look back up at him, a sense of guilt forming. I know how important this is for Jughead. And….I need to find something out about Riverdale that could tell me what happened to Ali. It doesn’t mean the answer has to come today. Or within the next few hours.

“V wants me to go over to her place.” I say, making up my mind. Salem lets out a little meow and stirs awake as I start to pack up my bag. “Don’t know what for, but hopefully it shouldn’t take too long.” Jughead looks a bit defeated, staring off into space. He shakes out of it and looks back up at me.

“No worries. We’ll pick up again tomorrow, depending on if Mayor McCoy and the rest of town hall decide to cancel school.” I nod and sling my bag onto my shoulders. He lets out a small chuckle.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just….didn’t think Hiram Lodge would already allow his daughter to invite people over to Pembrooke. But here we are.” I raise my brow at him in confusion. Salem growls beneath me, I think he can sense my current state of thought. Did Mister Lodge not allow V to bring over people before? Or is Jughead just jealous?

Whatever. I scoop Salem up into one arm and bid Jughead farewell before texting V back.

**To V: Sure! Leaving the library now. Where exactly is it you live?**

“Told you that boy would be trouble.” Salem comments as we leave the library. Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I head down the steps onto the street, releasing Salem to the ground. “I think you’re better off staying with Miss Lodge….considering that she and you share a common secret.”

“What? That we’re both half-witches?” I snort.

“More or less. Besides, you need to be around more people who are like you. How else can you build on your powers?” I turn away from Salem and slow down my pace. He does have a point - having more people in my life like V could help when it comes to controlling my witchcraft and balancing my human life. But where are there more half-witches that don’t feel shame in their identities? Especially in a place that doesn’t hold much magic?

“Good luck finding more witches in Riverdale, Salem.” I end our conversation there. I feel a buzz in my pocket, signaling me to pull out my phone. Plugging in V’s address into my phone, I begin my route to Pembrooke.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It’s cold in the trailer. Even with the long-sleeve dress I changed into after talking with Gladys, I’m still freezing. I light a candle to bring some heat into the space, and I sit at the table, wrapping myself in a blanket I snagged from the bedroom. The flesh under my eyes feels heavy. My throat is sore from the crying. My headache is returning. I’m tempted to take some herbal remedy and go back to sleep, but I’m scared of seeing what haunts my dreams. Gladys left about five minutes ago to get some food started for me, considering I haven’t eaten since yesterday. She tried to insist that I come over to her trailer just so I wouldn’t be alone - I guess the thought of me doing something scared her. Frankly, it scares me too. I won’t lie when I say I’ve been so terrified of my memories and my thoughts that I….I wanted it all to stop. There were those times, and there still are. What’s kept me from doing something is helping Sabrina along her journey. It’s keeping my bakery open. But even now….those things could easily slip from my reach, especially with Hal out and roaming.

A couple of minutes pass when I hear a knock on the door, pulling me out of my numb state. I groan as I get up to see who’s at the door. I’m thinking it’s Gladys telling me to come over for lunch. I open the door and my eyes widen. It’s not Gladys at the door, but FP. He stands outside the trailer with his hands in his pockets, his mouth gaping open and close like a fish gasping for air. He struggles to make eye contact with me, he’s nervous. What is he doing over here? At my trailer of all places?

He stays quiet for another moment, then talks, “Ummm….Gladys wanted me to let you know that food’s ready…..and she, uhh….” He stutters in his speech. He keeps his eyes on the ground, digging at something with his shoe. He eventually looks up at me, continuing, “Just….whenever you’re ready to come over and eat.” My gaze at him goes soft, a sense of calmness putting me at ease. I forgot how relaxed I felt whenever he was around. Snapping my mind back into the present, I give him a silent nod. As much as I want to stay here in the comfort of my trailer, I do need something in my stomach. And maybe I could use some company.

“Hang on.” I lift a finger at him. I hurry away from the door and slip on a pair of slippers by the bedroom. I blow out the candle then, wrapping the blanket around me tighter, head out of the trailer. I shut the door behind me and look up at FP…. I take more time than anticipated to fully examine him. I can make out the lines around his eyes, the small hints of gray forming in his brown hair, the quiver being contained in a tight-lip expression. Whatever happened to FP in these past 25 years must have worn him out. Witches tend to maintain their youth and beauty as they age, so I’ve been lucky enough to have some youthful glow. Yet, my human side has made me look somewhat older…..well, younger than my classmates. I blink at him, forcing myself to not stare for too long. I sigh, and make my way down the steps, FP trailing behind me.

“Sabrina not around?” he looks back up at the trailer. Remembering her note with the heart, I give him a sad nod.

“She’s out with your son….I think.” He turns back to me, almost stunned at my words. He blinks heavily before letting out a cough.

“Can’t ever keep up with what that boy’s doing.” he admits. “Into the whole….dark academia thing. Surprised he hasn’t gotten in trouble yet for doing all that research for the school paper.” I look around the trailer park, too scared all of a sudden to make eye contact with FP. This neighborhood we both grew up in hasn’t changed. The young Serpents back in our day ran this area, playing a ball game of some sort or fighting one another. I never partook in any of it, and now Jughead doesn’t seem like the type either. Part of me starts to wonder how different Serpent teens are….whether the group has changed for the better since I left and Gladys showed up. If there’s less trouble with the authority, especially with Keller in charge….

“So….Tom Keller is the Sheriff now?” I throw out. FP’s eyes light up, and he chuckles. His sudden radiation of positivity makes me laugh too.

“That’s not all of it.” he smiles, looking back over at his trailer then to me again. “I’ll catch you up when we get to the trailer.”

So we head to the Jones’s trailer. The house smells of slow-cooker chili, and my stomach instantly growls. Gladys greets us and insists that I take a seat in the living room while she finishes preparing the meal. FP comes over to the living room and sits down across from me on the cot. So he starts to catch me up on the lives of our classmates - Apparently, Keller left the military and came back to Riverdale, married, had a kid, and is now the Sheriff. Sierra Samuels, the political animal of our class, married some singer and now goes by Mayor McCoy (yes, she is the mayor now). She has a daughter who is the town’s Whitney Houston, has her own band and everything. And Fred Andrews, one of FP’s teammates and close friends….he married our class’s valedictorian, Mary Maiden.

“Mary? He’s with her?”

“Yeah. Got together after school ended.” he answers. “She’s got some law practice going across the country. Not sure what exactly it’s for, but she’s not around as much. It ain’t an issue though between them, and he’s taken over Andrews Construction in town. And their boy, Archie, he’s been buds with Jug since elementary school.” My mood lifts more and more as the conversation goes on. So the town went on just fine after I left. The people I knew pursued what I’d figured they would go into - Sierra with law and politics, Fred with construction (which shocked me at first but it makes sense now), and…..Hiram with whatever it is he’s doing.

I lean back slightly in my seat and my gaze wanders as FP continues filling me in on our classmates. I turn to face the bedroom doorway by their kitchen. A small figure with bright eyes and pigtail braids hides behind the wall, staring at me in wonder. She doesn’t have FP’s eyes, or Gladys’s, but she has her father’s facial structure. She has her mother’s mouth. I slowly lift my hand and wave at the little girl. She stays in her spot with no response, part in wonder and part in fear.

FP notices my movement and turns to the girl. “You gonna come out and say hello, Jellybelly?” She doesn’t reply.

Gladys goes over to her and takes her daughter’s face into her hands. “Go wash up, JB.” _So this is Jellybean…._ I watch as the girl follows her mother into the bedroom, and to where I assume is the bathroom. FP and I turn to each other, and his eyes widen in a “yep, that’s my daughter” fashion. Maybe the girl is just shy, I figure to myself. Yet, something about this girl is striking out to me, but I can’t tell what. Something I must have felt at that age.

“Sorry,” he says to me with a sigh, “JB gets all anxious whenever new people come into the house. I don’t blame her though - whenever we got other Serpents coming over, it gets so loud and hectic, so she and Jug tend to hide out in the bedroom. But you…..” he pauses, making me a little bit nervous. He runs his fingers through his hair, and I notice something on his wrist….a silver cuff bracelet with words carved into the metal. I sit up so I can get a better glance at the words, but I can’t make them out. He catches me looking and gives me a sad smile. He looks down at his wrist as he speaks, “Got this as a “18 months sober” present. From my AA program.” His wrist falls into his lap, and he develops that sadness in his eyes again. It takes me the little strength I have now to not burst into tears. FP did have his struggles after I left. He never got out of this town. He joined the Serpents and fell victim to his inner demons. And Gladys…..Gladys was there to pull him out. She had to…..because I did this to him. I destroyed him, and Hermione Gomez too.

Before I can ask about his AA program, a pair of fingers taps my forearm. I turn to find FP’s daughter towering over me. She has a bowl of chili in her hands, holding it out to me. “Mom says you get first serving.” she finally speaks to me. I lift my head up to her at the sound of her quiet, little voice. Still shaken by the thought of FP’s battle with alcoholism, I inhale deeply and force myself to give the girl a small smile.

I stand up. “You keep it for yourself.” I whisper to her. Smoothing down the fabric of my dress, I head into the kitchen to grab myself a fresh bowl. FP and Gladys begin to converse with one another behind me in hushed voices. I notice a couple of biscuits fresh from the oven on the counter. I take two and wander back over to where I was sitting. JB stays still in her place as I set the bowl down. I transfer one biscuit into my free hand and hold it out to her, a little peace offering. She eyes the item in my hand for a moment, then she looks up a me. The corners of her mouth lift slightly. Her eyes light up. She takes the biscuit and flops down onto the couch. I sit down next to, grabbing for my bowl, and dig in.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

I look up at this decadent building when I arrive. So this is where V lives? Pembrooke looks like those buildings, castles really, out of fairytales but more modern. V said someone would guide me up to her residence in a follow-up text, so I let her know I’m outside. At my feet, Salem growls. I sigh, lowering my phone, and glare down. “What now, Salem?”

“Look up, kid.” he tilts his head up at the building. Out of curiosity, I turn up to examine whatever Salem could be referring to in the upper levels of Pembrooke. Nothing stands out to me…..except for one window. The shades are up so the interior of this residence is pitch-black….mostly pitch-black with a little bit of a glowing fire in the distant. A figure stands by the window staring down at Salem and me. I squint to get a better glance at this person. Even in more casual wear, his features still make him recognizable.

“Mister Lodge?” I giggle slightly, returning my gaze to Salem. “What’s there to be so worried about with him?” He stays quiet for a moment.

“Nothing of your concern….for now.” he coyly replies. That’s strange, I think to myself. Why would Salem have a problem with Mister Lodge if he’s never even met the man? I look back up at the window only to find that the man is no longer there. Even if it was V’s father, does he know why I’m out here? Does he even know about Salem’s….nature?

“You know, Salem,” I address my feline familiar, “for a little creature locked up in an abandoned house for so many years, you know way more about the people in this town than most.” Salem perks up at me. His strange eyes have a little twinkle, like he wants me to believe he’s innocent at all costs.

“Looks like that Jones boy is already starting to corrupt you.” his voice comes off playful, yet the message comes off cautious. It doesn’t sound innocent whatsoever. Before I can ask the meaning of his words, I notice Salem looking a new direction. His head tilts towards the staircase, then coils back slightly. He teeters back, lets out a menacing cry, and hisses. My breath shortens - what’s got him all agitated?

“Miss Mullway!” the voice that caught Salem off guard catches mine. To my surprise, Mister Lodge comes down the steps and approaches me with a warm smile. My mood lightens and I return the friendly gesture.

“Hi!” I’m compelled to explain my reasoning for staring into his home. “I’m not just lurking…..if that’s why you’re out here, Mister Lodge. I----”

“Veronica told me you’d come by.” he reassures me, still smiling. “So, I thought it would be best if I showed you into the place.” He then turns slightly to gesture to the building behind him. “Welcome to Pembrooke.” The gesture makes me giggle, which in turn makes Salem grumble. Mister Lodge directs his attention to Salem, “See you already made a new acquaintance.”

“Oh….yeah.” I answer, looking down at my familiar. Salem nonchalantly licks his paws, but even then he pays our host no attention. Not wanting to stall, I go on. “This is Salem. Got him yesterday, but….I’m still trying to learn how to train him.”

Mister Lodge raises a brow. “Salem, you said?”

“Yeah! Like, the Salem Witch Trials.” I tell him. Of course, Salem gave me his name, so I can’t take full credit for it. Still, I have no clue how he came up with Salem on his own, but I guess it’s more history I’ll need to dig into while I’m here in Riverdale.

“How clever.” Mister Lodge comments. In disapproval, Salem positions himself, almost as if he wants to attack, and growls. Oh great, just what I need. My new best friend’s father wants to get to know me, and I completely embarrass myself thanks to a familiar. I frustratingly turn to Salem and bark at him to calm down. I stumble in my words to apologize for Salem’s behavior, speaking quickly and nervously. V’s father makes a “it’s alright” gesture with his hand, bringing me some relief. “Come on. I’ll take you to Veronica.” he begins to head up the steps. I assume he wants me to follow him, but I don’t move. He stops at some distance and turns his head back to me. Realizing that he does want me to follow, I begin my way up the steps.

Then I remember Salem. I turn quickly on my heel to face him, pointing a finger. “Stay here. And….don’t eat any mice?”

“Oh, with pleasure.” Salem cooly responds. I honestly can’t tell if he’s being snarky with me, but I’ll have to lecture him on his attitude later. I rush up the steps to catch up with Mister Lodge, and we head into Pembrooke together.

The lobby of the building itself is jaw dropping. The white walls loom over, and the gold trim sparkles in the blique sunlight. I slow my pace just so I can pay more attention to each detail. It’s so bright compared to Spellman Mortuary. It’s certainly more prominent in its appearance compared to….well, anywhere in Greendale, really.

“This way.” Mister Lodge guides me over to the elevators. The large, gold doors slide open and we enter. We stand there in silence for a few moments as the doors shut, sending us up. My mind starts to race again. What did V want me over here for? What if Jughead thinks I’m too much of a flake to work for his newspaper? And Ali….

Beside me, I hear Mister Lodge struggle to speak. The sound captures my attention, and I turn to him. “Sabrina, how is…..how is your caretaker?” he speaks, unusually slow and deliberate. Then I remember - Ali. She was with him at the diner last night!

“Oh! Wendy….” I pause before I can say anything. I start thinking about Ali wailing in the bathroom before I left the trailer park. Practically passed out by the time I returned with Salem last night. Her hidden misery leading up to now. I don’t know how to respond to the question immediately, fearing that the truth of her depression might come off unfavorable. Yet….if Mister Lodge shared V’s powers, did that mean he could see my thoughts? I look up at him, and he shoots me a sympathetic glance.

“I just….wanted to see if she was alright. After the blackout at Pop’s.” he’s quick to explain. “She fainted so unexpectedly. It had me worried.” He stops for a second, lost in thought, almost somber. This is only the second time I’ve interacted with this man, yet I’ve never seen him this….upset. No, upset isn’t the right word - remorseful. He looks remorseful when he brings up Ali. I start to wonder, since V knows that I’m Sabrina Spellman, would that mean Mister Lodge did remember her? Did he even know she would be coming to Riverdale with me?

My thoughts come together. “Did….” I start to ask, “Did you bring her back to Sunnyside Trailers last night?” He breaks his distant gaze and turns to me. Without muttering a word, he nods. My heart lightens, and I smile. I get why Auntie Z trusted Mister Lodge and V to look after me and Ali now. I just don’t understand why Salem has such a negative outlook on this family sans V. Or why he doesn’t care for anyone Ali must have known….

The elevator doors chime open, indicating that we’ve arrived on our floor. Mister Lodge leads me down to the end of the hallway and opens the door. I step in…..WOW. I knew V had money, but this place is immaculate. The pristine white walls stand out in the sunlight. The long wooden table and roaring fire add depth to the living and dining room. I can’t help but stand in the doorway and look around with my jaw on the floor. If only the Aunties, Ambrose, and I lived like this back in Greendale….

A door opens from another side of the massive space, which catches my attention. V emerges from her bedroom, running over to me in delight. “Hey girl! I was so worried you’d get lost on the way over here!” She pulls me in for a hug and wraps an arm around my shoulder. She turns to her father and addresses him, “I can take it over from here, Daddy.”

“Just keep the noise down,_ mija_. I have some work I need to get done before the day is through.” He gives us a nod before turning away. He begins to head off to where I assume is his study - there must have been where I was looking up into.

“Mister Lodge!” I call out to him. He stops and looks back at me. “Thank you, again…..” I say, my voice falling short. But I don’t need to finish. The somber look in his eyes returns. He gives me a sad smile. He knows I’m talking about Ali.

“Of course.” Then he retreats to his study, shutting the large wooden doors behind him. I stand there for a moment in the brief silence. Whatever happened at the diner last night between Aunt Ali and Mister Lodge must be tormenting him…..but why?

“He’s been like that all morning.” V’s voice echoes behind me. I turn to face her as she continues, “Been hiding out in his office or sulking around for no reason. Maybe it’s a lack of sleep? But, who knows with my father.” she shrugs.

“You think it’s because he was up until you got back last night? After….” I pause, glancing over at the study door. I lower my voice, “after visiting the Conway House?” V stays quiet at first, then sighs.

“Actually, he was the one who got back late.” she confesses. “I was here at least an hour before Daddy came back to Pembrooke. I have no clue where he was during the blackout, or what he was doing…..probably scouring all of Riverdale to track me down, for all I care.” Her voice drops suddenly before glancing down at the floor. She really doesn’t know what her father did for Ali last night? I’m tempted to voice this truth, yet my mouth remains shut. And how could I? Before I can talk, V looks back up at me and beams. Something about her distracts me…..since when did V own a pearl necklace? She never has one one during cheer practice, or maybe I just haven’t paid any attention. Either way, it stands out on her. I wonder how long she’s had it for….

“Anyways, enough about Daddy. Come follow me.” With a smile, she takes my hand and leads me away from the living room, into her bedroom. Her room is like the rest of the Lodges’ place - clean, pristine, and….well, astounding. The white walls reflect the sunlight from outside, brightening the room. There’s not a speck of dust on her bedrooms or her vanity. My room back home isn’t as bright or as clean - usually I’d have my school books or whatever books on witchcraft scattered along the floor. But with V, it’s almost like an exhibit for a museum - touch one thing and it’s all ruined.

What stands out in this room of pearl white is two darker dresses on her bed. V goes over to her bed and picks the dresses up, one in each hand. She turns to me and stands there. “So….which one do you prefer? Black mesh with florals, or purple sequins?” She shimmies a little with each dress. I don’t know if she wants me to try these outfits on, or if they’re meant for her to wear. I raise a brow in confusion.

“Can I ask what this is for?” I throw out with a nervous giggle. “Another dinner with your dad?”

“Actually…..” she sets the dresses down and clasps her hands together. “I considered telling you in the text, but….I figured it’d be better to tell you in person.” She walks slowly over to me, pursing her lips. Then, she gives a sheepish smile. “I have a date tonight.”

My eyes widen in delight and shock. She looks back and forth between her door and me, holding up her index fingers to her mouth to keep me from exclaiming too loud to disturb her father, all while giggling. I smile and take her hands. “That’s….V! That’s great! How did you even….” I stumble on my words as she leads me to the bed and sits us down. “With who? Archie?”

“No! No, not Archie. He’s a dear friend, but not my gentleman suitor for tonight. I don’t think you’ve met him yet.” she tells me in a soft voice. She still holds onto my hands in excitement as she continues, “His name is Chuck Clayton. He’s on the football team, and just so happens to be the coach’s son. But that’s not all about him. He’s into drawing and musical theater.” V gets up from her place and moves over to her vanity, staring at her reflection. “Funny enough, a week before you arrived, we got paired up to perform a song from _Carrie the Musical _in our musical theater class. Of course, the professor had me singing as the mean girl, Chris…..but Chuck happened to be a very good Billy Nolan. So, we performed our number for the class and did very well. And through the whole process, he was absolutely nothing but a gentleman.” She starts rifling through her jewelry on a stand, trying to find some earrings to match her outfit. I look down at the dresses on her bed - they seem way too elegant for any casual date.

“So….where is this happening?”

“No clue. He said he’d surprise me.” V shrugs as she begins to play with the pearls around her neck. “Knowing how tiny Riverdale is, wouldn’t be that shocking if he took me to Pop’s…..if the diner opened back up tonight. Apparently Pop’s had more of the worse after-effects of the blackout. Did you hear about that?” The comment makes my spine straighten. My thoughts trail back to Ali…..and Mister Lodge….

“First time I’m hearing about it.” I answer in a weary tone. V turns back to me and leans against her vanity. Her lips form a straight line. She glances down at her carpeted floor.

“You think those outfits are too fancy for a small-town date?” She sounds wounded. I struggle to find an answer - do I think these outfits may be a little more elegant for a dinner at Pop’s? Perhaps, but if this is what V feels comfortable with, power to her. V goes on, “I know it’s….way over the top. I just….” she pushes herself away from the vanity and nervously clasps her hands together. “I haven’t been out with anyone since I lived in New York. My father’s strict with my dates. Can’t stay out past a certain time of night, wanting me to make sure I perform my practices…..reminding me of my witchness.” She goes quiet after that.

I get it. The struggles V went through, and still does to a degree. Both Aunties were strict about my dates with Harvey, or any time that I spent in the human world. They wanted me to stay true to my allegiance with the Church of Night, like I wasn’t a half-witch, half-human. It was almost like I forgot I had a human side to me.

I stand up and walk over to V, taking both of her hands. “Well….you’re not in New York anymore. You’re in Riverdale for a good reason.” V looks up at me on those last words. I continue, “I’d say enjoy being a half-human while you can. Wear whatever you feel the most comfortable in. See who you want.” She smiles as I finish my speech.

“You’re right. I’m probably just getting myself all worked up over nothing.” she teases. Yet, I can still sense the nervousness in her voice.

“Hey….if anything does happen, you can always call me. Or….send out some telepathetic message to summon me.”

“I know.” V whispers, squeezing my hands. Outside her room, something caws in the distance. We break our eye contact and turn to the door in confusion. V lets go of my hands and moves over to the door. She presses her ear up against the door, listening for any sort of noise. Another squawk, louder this time, echoes through the walls.

“Is there a bird trapped in the house?” I whisper. V looks over to me and shakes her head.

“I….I think it’s my father’s familiar.” I blink at her. Mister Lodge has a bird for a familiar? How odd…. She moves over to her window and looks out. I rush over to join her and my mouth falls open. Outside, a black moving figure, what almost appears to be a raven, flies away from Pembrooke. Something’s wrapped around its neck. A message?

“You think your dad’s trying to contact somebody?” We both turn from the window and look at one another.

V shrugs. “To be honest, ‘Brina, I don’t know. My father hasn’t sent out his familiar to contact anyone in a long time.”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

The diner is now back up and running, according to a phone call from Pop. Gladys and I figure it’d be easiest to work the same shift so we can commute together. Well, I tried to argue that I could do a shift on my own, or work solo on another night. But Gladys isn’t going to let me have another episode at Pop’s. Or at least have to suffer another supernatural panic attack on my own. So after some convincing on her end, and FP’s, I give in and agree to share the shift with her. I help to clean up from lunch at their place, and head back over to my trailer. Spending time with them actually wasn’t as scary as I feared. FP and I talked casually about life in Riverdale, and we found ways to make each other laugh. He shared stories of his newfound favorite activities during the holidays, like wrapping Christmas presents for children on the Southside, painting Easter Eggs with Jughead and JB, and becoming more involved with the Riverdale High Parent Organization for holiday galas. Gladys even mentioned that during this year’s Halloween party, she and FP stole the show when they made their appearance as Bonnie and Clyde. I’m just lucky Gladys helped to steer the conversation away from anything regarding witchcraft, or demons. The only person who didn’t contribute much was their daughter. JB kept quiet for most of the meal, only providing one or two word answers when I asked her about school. I don’t blame her - I never got along with my classmates either. I found a lot of my youthful days long and grueling. It didn’t help that I had to hide my magic from my peers, so it made me even more of a social pariah. At least JB is lucky she has good parents. She has both parents, unlike me.

After a little bit of cleaning off my uniform from the night before, thanks to a little quick magic, I throw on the uniform and smooth out the skirt. I quickly fill up two thermos containers with fresh brewed coffee for Gladys and me during our shift, and head out the door. Gladys is leaning against the outside of my trailer when I come down the stairway. I hand her one thermos and we begin to make our way over to her car. A loud squawk from behind us stops us in our path. We both whip our heads in fear.

“The hell was that?” she grits through her teeth. I glance around the trailer park for any sign of the noise. My eyes dart nervously…...then I see it. On top of my car waits an impatient raven wearing a little piece of paper tied around its neck.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I stride over to my car and glare down at Edgar. He hops around the hood, squawking away, then tilts his little head up at me. The letter tied around his neck crinkles in the wind. Even rolled up, I can make out Hiram’s handwriting. What does he want now? I grab for the letter around Edgar’s neck, untying the ribbon in a single motion. I unroll the letter with my fingernail and begin to read.

** _Alice, I hope you have been able to recover after the events of last night. I can now see why you have such a dear attachment to Miss Spellman - she is a considerate and thoughtful girl. I stand true to my statement if you are in need of any assistance during your stay in Riverdale. If not, I respect your wish to stay away. Please contact me otherwise. Take care, Hiram_ **

“So this is how witches flirt with one another in Greendale?” Gladys glances at the note over my shoulder. “Through pigeon post? Who’s trying to reach out to you?” Letting out a long sigh, I hand her the note, all while keeping my eyes on my little airborn visitor. A few seconds of silence go by, then Gladys scoffs. “Okay…..Hiram being a witch makes sense now. You said he’s with that Church group, right?”

“Why do you think he came to Pop’s during my shift last night?” I turn to her and cross my arms. My eyes dart to the ground, somewhat in loss of words, but primarily out of my building anxiety. I shut my eyes for a brief moment and take a deep breath. I speak again, “I’d do anything to make sure that the Church doesn’t force Sabrina down a path she’s not ready to handle….at least not on her own.” I clamp my mouth shut after the last bit. I look back up at Gladys and take a deep breath, feeling a little wave of sadness ripple through me.

She gives me a reassuring smile. “That girl seems smart. She won’t let anyone force her to do anything she don’t want. That I can tell you.” The comment makes the corners of my mouth rise. She brings her hand to my bicep and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Just promise that if there are people bugging you and that girl, don’t go and kick their asses without me around. Okay?” With a chuckle, my smile grows. We start to walk away from my car when Edgar lets out another squawk. I turn to face the raven, part in frustration. He tilts his little head at me, like he wants some sort of payment for delivering me that message. I let out a sigh, then I leave Gladys’s side to go back over to Edgar. I crouch down so I’m at eye level with this thing.

“You can go back home now, okay?” I speak to him. He doesn’t do anything - he just stays in his spot unbothered. I try again, my voice a bit more stern. “That means you need to leave.” Nothing. My frustration begins to bubble up. I’m tempted to slam on the hood to scare him off - but Gladys is here, and I don’t want to cause a scene. And I’ve already done enough to frighten this thing, even if he does deserve it. An idea comes to me. I make a fist then release it, taking a deep breath. Then, I look Edgar in the eye.

“_Diles a tu jefe que recibí su mensaje. Tu trabajo está hecho._” The Spanish rolls from my tongue, a little rusty but Edgar gets my message loud and clear. Without another moment of hesitation, he nods and flies away. I watch him go off, half in amusement. So he takes Spanish commands….

I hear Gladys snort. I look back at her and raise my brow. “What? I took Spanish in high school.” I reply. It’s true - back during my school days, I could pick up on the language easily. And with my magical capabilities, I’ve been able to maintain the tongue for it. She continues to laugh.

“Well, shit. Anything else you need to tell me about yourself, witch?” With a smirk forming, I hustle back over and throw my arm over her shoulders. We walk away from my car and head over to Pop’s.

The afternoon is surprisingly slow, considering Pop’s is the only restaurant in town open after the blackouts. I figure people don’t want to go out and would rather spend time with family. Also, Sierra McCoy and the team at the PD dropped by earlier to announce that the high school won’t be open for the whole next week, so the teenagers are most likely celebrating elsewhere. Pop sees it as an opportunity to get more people back into the diner, and so does Gladys. For me, it’s a good thing the school’s closed…..and bad. Good in that I can finally have some alone time with Sabrina and talk with her. But, with Hal out and about, who knows what he could do and who he could target. And the fact that I still don’t know who had the ability to let him out….

I run through possible conversation scenarios in my head while I cater to those in the diner. I try to think of how to explain everything to Sabrina - why I really left Riverdale, why I’ve had so many panic attacks, my history with Hal. While my intentions to have her steer clear of the Conway Home and any dangerous magic practice with Hiram’s daughter, I fear that I might come off stern with her. I’m not here to play Zelda. I’m not her, or Hilda, or Ambrose. To her, I’m Aunt Ali, the understanding one. The gentle one. One of the only few witches she trusts. I don’t want to scare her away, but I don’t want to watch her make the same mistakes as me.

I finish serving a table full of Vixen women their meals then head off to the bathroom to wash my hands. Sometimes, getting away to use the restroom acts as a reset for me - I can just shut my eyes and let the water run. Let the soap cleanse away whatever is on me. Like I’m Lady Macbeth scrubbing out the damned spot. I force myself to take a deep breath before I turn off the faucet. I can still feel my anxiousness building up even after running my hands under warm water. I don’t realize it until I violently rip three paper towels from the dispenser.

My breathing slows, my thoughts are still trapped over my fear for Sabrina. No - it’s my fear of Hal finding her and abusing her. The way he abused me. I have to shut my eyes and rest my forehead against the paper towel dispenser. It takes me a few rounds of breathing before I can put myself together again. **_Breathe, Alice, just breathe. Daisies and Candles._**

I walk out of the bathroom, the clump of damp paper towels still in my hands, when my eyes dart up. I stop, staring at the sight in front of me. At the cash register, Sabrina leans against the counter talking with Gladys. They stop their conversation and look over at me. Sabrina grows a wide grin, slightly tearing up. Gladys nods at me and moves away to tend to customers at the other side of the diner. The corners of my mouth raise, my breathing eases, as Sabrina rushes over to me.

“Ali---” she starts then clamps her mouth shut, looking around the diner. While there aren’t many people here, it’s still too risky to have people refer to my real name. Even if they say my name in a whisper. Sabrina turns back to me. “Hey! Did….did you see my letter from earlier? I….I just didn’t know if….” she stutters, her hands are trembling. I set the paper towels down on the counter and take her hands.

“I’m….I’m okay, sweetie.” I force the words to come out of my mouth. Her eyes remain so hopeful, easing the tension. While I am feeling slightly better since telling Gladys the truth and spending the morning with her and FP and their daughter, something about this morning still leaves me unsettled. It doesn’t come to me right away, but I remember. Sabrina had that black cat with bright eyes. I break our gaze, looking around the diner. “Sabrina, what happened to that cat from earlier? The one you were holding this morning?”

“Salem? Oh, I dropped him back off at the trailer park.” she responds in a weary tone. “Hopefully he stays there. He was all fussy with me before I went over to spend the rest of the morning with V.” My back stiffens a bit. V? Is…..oh wait. She’s talking about Hiram’s daughter. My thoughts go back to his letter. He mentioned something about his opinions on Sabrina. But his alignment to the Church….how do I know he’s not using that daughter of his to convince Sabrina to sway towards the Path of Night? She brings up her going over to help her “friend” after working in the library with FP’s son. Her conversation with Hiram. Seeing Hiram’s familiar fly off with something. The words come out of her mouth, but I can’t process them. My thoughts are still on him. Why did Hiram help me last night when he knows of my neutrality in the Sabrina matter? Why did he send that letter to me? What was that sigil doing over my bed? How does he remember about what I did to him…..with Hal….Hal….

My vision goes fuzzy for a second. I tilt slightly to the side. I have to let go of her hand so I can grip onto the counter to keep me upright. Sabrina’s smile fades, her eyes lose their hope and turn into fear. She reaches out for my arms as a way to help me. “Hey, you should sit down.”

“No….I’m fine.” my voice comes off much louder than anticipated. I stand back up straight, glancing down at Sabrina. She looks wounded, I guess from the tone of my voice.

“Are you sure?” she whispers. I don’t say anything. I could, but I’m worried that what will come out of my mouth will wound her further. I don’t trust Hiram. I don’t trust that daughter of his either. I don’t want them corrupting Sabrina. My brain screams all of these fears, yet my lips remain tight shut.

“You don’t need to tell me why you’re upset, Ali.” Sabrina tells me with a frown. I blink at her, first with no emotion, then in confusion. Before I can ask her for an explanation, she rotates us so my back is to the front of the diner and her back’s to the kitchen. She sits down at one of the barstools, letting out a sigh.

“I know about Mister Lodge, and why he knows Auntie Z.” she starts in a low register, not to draw attention to our conversation. My brow raises. How does she know about Hiram being a witch? She goes on, “He’s like us, and so is V. They’re helping to keep me safe until our return to Greendale. I’ll admit, the truth of that matter did strike me odd at first, but I know it’s with good reason.” My eyes widen. I can’t tell whether it’s happening out of shock, or anger, or sadness. I don’t even know how to respond to all of this. I don’t know how Sabrina found out, or when. Her voice comes to a halt as she sees my current expression. I look down and noticing my fingers trembling. My wrist tenses up, my bones getting stiff. And I thought I was more shaken up by Sabrina falling down the wrong path with Hal.

Sabrina grabs for my shaking hand. She strokes her tiny thumb over my wrist. “Look, I know you don’t like Mister Lodge. You have a reason to be angry about what ever it was that happened between you two in high school. But…..maybe Mister Lodge has changed for the better. Maybe he’s not that same person you knew. And V…..V is good. She would never do anything to hurt anyone else…..” She pauses, taking a deep breath as she looks down at the ground. My intense gaze softens. My hand not as shaky anymore. She looks back up at me, smiling with a teary look in her eye. “I know Roz and Susie are my friends back at home. But V…..V is the first real friend I’ve had. The first one I can relate to.”

It hits me for the first time since seeing Hiram again, and meeting his daughter. Maybe Zelda did have good intentions of having them look after Sabrina. Even if he didn’t know he would be handling me as well. His tone with me during our conversation last night makes sense now. The real concern he showed in his wording. Perhaps Hiram did change after high school. He may have his fealty to the Church, but there is his daughter. Sabrina hasn’t once brought up anything regarding talk of joining the Church for sure. Or even consideration of signing the Book.

I take a soft, yet firm hold of Sabrina’s hands. A small grin forms on my face. “I’m proud of you, Sabrina.” my voice shakes. “I know this transition has been hard for you. And I know you miss your family. But you’ve been able to put a smile on your face and make the most of this situation. You jumped into classes at the high school with ease, you joined different clubs, you made new friends….” I pause. It occurs to me that what I’m saying is right. Sabrina has been able to move forward and acclimate to life in Riverdale. I’m trapped in the past and want to hide. She’s friends with kids of all jacks and trade, I can barely talk to FP without having Gladys around. And I almost killed Hiram. The whole situation with the Church is nothing concerning me, yet I have found ways to make it about me and my past. My selfishness and isolation have blocked me from seeing how far Sabrina has come in forming new alliances. And what she can do with them. Even if her friends are children of the foes of my past. “I won’t stop you from seeing Veronica. I don’t want my past with her father to affect your friendship with her now. Or any relationships you have with the children of my former classmates….” My mind wanders to FP’s son. And Fred’s. Maybe even Tom and Sierra’s kids, though I have yet to meet them while in town. Maybe things have changed for the better. This new wave of kids could not be as cruel or sinister as the kids I went to school with in the 90s. Even then…..

“You just don’t want to watch me get hurt.” Sabrina states what’s in my head. My mouth gapes open, then clamps shut. My face flushes in panic. I can feel the corners of my eyes getting wet. She squeezes my hands. “I get it. I don’t want these kids to hurt me anymore than you fear. But trust me, Ali - these kids aren’t so bad compared to any of the other bullies at Baxter. Or even Prudence Blackwood and her sisters. You don’t have to be afraid for me. The people I go to school with here won’t do anything bad. And if something were to happen…...well, you know.” She finishes with a slight smile. She frees one of her hands and makes a little gesture. I allow myself to grin as the tears in my eyes form.

“I know you can defend yourself, sweetie.” my voice cracks. I can feel the tears coming full force. I struggle in between gasps to speak, “I just want you to be safe. And happy. You deserve it, after everything you went through.”

Sabrina rises up from the barstool. “You deserve some happiness too, Ali. More than anything.” She reaches up on her tiptoes and wipes my tears away. I hold onto the outer part of her hand when she caresses my face. “I’m sorry this whole process of coming back to Riverdale has been hard for you. I want to help you, Ali. You shouldn’t have to suffer all alone.” Her gaze wanders off for a moment, glancing around the diner. Then she looks back up at me. “Do you…..do you still want to tell me what happened to you? Are you comfortable talking about it?” I let out an exhale. I glance around myself. I do want to tell her everything. I need her to know about Hal and the Conway House. But with all these people in the diner…..

“We don’t have to talk now, obviously.” Sabrina rushes her words. “We can have that conversation back at the trailer if you want. Can take the whole next week, really. Oh! Did they tell you guys in here? School’s cancelled all next week leading up to---”

“That’s fine.” I cut her off before swallowing the lump that built up in my throat. Sabrina gives me a sympathetic smile and nods. I’m relieved that we can finally have the time to talk later….if we can still make that time. “Hopefully nothing will get in the way.”

Her face contorts in confusion. “Why do you say that?” To be honest, the odds of me successfully having the time to tell her about myself are slim to none. Especially since she and I showed up in Riverdale.

My eyes meander over to the window, looking out into the world. Somewhere either on the streets or in the forest, Hal is waiting.….or something else much worse. Whatever it is, maybe the after effects of my memory spell….. it wants my past to stay buried in the past. I sigh, “It’s just…..why do I feel like every time I’m about to bring up my origins to you, something always interrupts the conversation?”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

I’m surprised that I was able to complete most of my homework at Pop’s. I feel bad for having to hover around the vicinity to wait for Ali, I feel bad for leaving Salem behind at the trailer park after returning from Pembrooke. But I want to make sure that Ali is okay, especially after this morning. I’m glad that we can take time later tonight to really talk. Maybe I can take the opportunity to ask her about the Conway House, maybe even tell her about how I really found Salem. She might have an idea of the symbols I saw on the floor.

The night comes, increasing the brightness of the lights in the diner. The crowd in here grows, but luckily I can work in peace without too much distraction. And luckily, Ali and Mrs. Jones were able to get me something to eat during the down times. I start to wonder about V and if her date with this Chuck Clayton is going well. I check my phone for any notification from her. So far, nothing. With a sigh, I set my phone down and grab for a fry on my plate. I open up my journal and glance through my notes from this morning. Maybe Pop Tate could know something about the Riverdale Reaper - he must have grown up during the Massacres. Besides, the diner has been around for a long time, even while Ali was here.

My thoughts drift all over while I finish my dinner. I start to fill the blank spaces in my journal with some small sigils. Above my school notes, I draw my symbol for “I bring happiness to those around me”, a little notion for V and Ali. Down at the bottom of the page resides “My spells work quickly and with much power” in the tiniest form. I flip to the next set of pages, my notes on the whole Reaper case. I think for a moment - what kind of sigil could help me and Jughead find the answers we need? What could guide me to learn more about Salem? I write down a sentence, take away the vowels and repeating consonants, then I sketch out a symbol that represents this intention for myself. I stare down at this new symbol. It looks like a P with an upside down V and a dot in the loop. The symbol is small, but the meaning is powerful.

** _I see the truth._ **

The doors chime open in the distance. I try not to pay attention to the person who just walked in, but the voice speaking catches my attention. “You think you could put an order for me and my dad to go, Mrs. Jones?” I look up to find Archie at the register, giving Mrs. Jones an order to go. He turns and sees me, his smile growing. “Sabrina!” he greets me with a wave. I close my journal and get up from my booth to walk over. He meets me halfway, “You hear about school?”

“Yeah, it’s crazy. And I just got here!” I tease. He starts to laugh, and I can’t tell if it’s out of pure amusement or nervousness. The way his eyes lit up when he saw me….it reminds me of the way Harvey would look at me. I wonder how Harvey and everyone else in Greendale is holding up without me.

“It’ll be out in 20 minutes, hon.” Mrs. Jones calls out. Archie gives her a thumbs up before turning back to me. His eyes start to lose their gleam the more nervous he gets around me.

“Do you want to wait with me?” I throw out the question, “I mean….I’m just getting ahead on some school work….but I don’t mind the company.”

“Sure! Sure….” he nods and trips on his words. I head back over to my booth, pushing my food to the side. Archie slides in across from me and rests his forearms on the table. “So….were you and Jug able to make it back to your place okay last night?” It takes me a little bit to register the question, but it clicks. He’s talking about our trip back from the Conway House. My eyes bulge open and I glance around the diner. I just hope no one is eavesdropping in on our conversation…..especially not Ali. I do want to ask her about this place, but if she found out of my real reason for being out last night, it would break her heart. Even more than it already is from what is going on with her mental state currently.

“Uh….yeah. Everything was fine.” I answer while still glancing around. No sign of any eavesdroppers, or Ali, so I let out a brief sigh before turning back to Archie. “Your dad didn’t get angry with you about taking his truck, did he?”

“No, didn’t tell him anything about our trip.” he admits. “Like I said last night, it was a good thing Jug reached out - I needed to take a break from the songwriting.” His eyes develop that shyness once more. He brings his hands together and looks down, frowning. I sit up straighter in my cushioned seat. I’m tempted to read his thoughts, to see what could be troubling him. Before I can, he looks back up. “Do you think my music is bad? You can be honest with me if it is.”

My mouth hangs in shock and in sadness. I speak quickly, “What? No! I happen to think it’s good. Are you worried about what Jughead and V said about it last night?”

“Kind of, but I know they don’t mean it.” Archie attempts to shake off his gloominess. Yet, I can still sense something is throwing off his behavior. He continues, “I’m just glad that I can talk about this with someone else. My music….” His voice trails off briefly as he leans back, unraveling his hands from their clasp. He huffs, glancing out the window. Without making it obvious in my facial expressions, I make an attempt to read Archie’s mind. What flows into my head shows his true emotions. He’s torn between expectations and real desires. And he can’t express these desires to anyone who truly cares.

Eventually the thoughts in his head come out of his own mouth. “I’m not really good at most things. School has always been a struggle for me - I can’t concentrate on the subjects too well, and no matter how hard I try, I get too easily frustrated. And even though I can play football, it’s not what makes me the happiest. I guess I just do it because it’s what my dad did in school, and it made him happy…… But my dad also liked another hobby - music. He wanted to go into it, but with money being so tight in our family, and with his chances of getting a football scholarship being non-existent, he had to give it up. Go into the family business to make a living.” His fingers drum on the table, a nervous tick I guess? He bites his lip before going on, “You know, my dad had this band in high school - the Fredheads. Had a nice guitar and everything. But he had to sell that at the end of his senior year just so he could pay for college.” He pauses, the drumming of his fingers ceasing, and looks back at me. Hearing these thoughts, I can’t help but feel so sorry for him. He sounds so passionate about his family and his passions, but I don’t think he’s had a real chance to talk about this with anyone. Not even with the people who are supposed to be his friends.

“Is that why you take it so seriously?” I finally ask the question. He turns back to me, his face going from hopeless to subtly surprised. I follow up, “You want to pursue a love for something that your father couldn’t fulfill?”

For the first time since our conversation began, Archie projects a microscopic smile. “Well….partially.” his voice sounds optimistic again, “I always had a knack for it, and my dad, he taught me how to play when I was younger. But me wanting to go into it as a life career…..that’s all been me.” He sits up straighter and energetically places his forearms onto the table. “I know I’m only a sophomore right now, but I am trying to look at colleges that would allow me to play football and study music. That’s the goal…..if only I can work on my grades. That’s why Jug and Ronnie are around. But…..” his eyes dart down to his arms then come back up, “I’m just relieved that I can talk about this with someone else…..”

He stops speaking. Then his eyes widen, almost in a panicked sense. Not sure of what’s happening, I raise my eyebrow and go to open my mouth. Yet he clarifies, rushing his words, “I’m so sorry…..did that make you…..was that…..oh crap….” In frustration, he buries his face into his hands.

“What’s wrong? What do you have to be sorry for?” Eventually, he lowers his hands and looks at me remorsefully.

“I felt like that came off like I was trying to hit on you. But I wasn’t, I promise! But….I’m sorry if it came off that way! I just….I didn’t want to say anything weird in case…...in case you had a boyfriend or something….” My face falls, my mind going to Harvey. His ramble comes to a halt when he sees my expression.

“I….” I wind up looking down at the table. I know Archie’s excitement of explaining his love for music wasn’t meant to make me uncomfortable, but his mannerisms, his hopeful expressions, his ability to love life….. I see so much of Harvey in him.

It makes me miss Harvey so much more. And it makes me miss Roz and Susie, and everyone I go to school with. I even miss Aunties and Ambrose. I do try to stay positive and make the most out of life here, as I explained to Ali earlier. I do find it comforting that V is also a half-witch, caught between honoring family and living a normal life. But I get why Ali is so scared for me, why she chose to come with me. No matter what I do to adjust to life here, focus on school, chant my heart out during Vixens practice…..my thoughts always race back to Greendale. To the life I had. To what I could lose if this trial causes me and Aunties and Ambrose our place in the Church of Night. If the consequences from my Baptism cause me to never have that split life again.

I finish my sentence, looking down nervously, “I actually do have a boyfriend. Back where I’m from.” I let the silence take over just for a small moment. Then my eyes go back up to Archie before I continue, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends! You’re a lot nicer than some of the jocks I’ve known…..both here and back home. And you actually know what you want to do after high school!” My words ease the tension. Archie, in relief, exhales and falls back into his seat. “Besides,” I wrap up, “now that I think about it…..I could use some more guy friends, other than Jughead.” The comment makes us both laugh, solidifying our new friendship.

From the other side of the diner, a girl who looks about our age starts messing around with the jukebox. Her dark hair and flashy bomber jacket shine in the fluorescent lights of the diner. A new song starts playing and she starts tapping her foot along to the beat. She starts to sing along…..she has one of the best voices I’ve heard, even better than Prudence Blackwood and her sisters. “Wow.” I mutter in awe. “She’s good.” Her voice has a natural soul to it, and it can capture anyone’s attention. Well, it catches mine….and Archie’s. I begin to notice the way his eyes melt at the sight of her. The way his smile softens. How he tries to be careful to not make it obvious that he’s admiring her from the distance.

“Yeah….insanely good.” he comments, still keeping his eyes on this girl. This talented stranger leaves the jukebox and walks back over to her booth. In a panic, Archie slips back into his seat and places his hands onto his lap. His lips purse together, and…..does he like this girl?

“Are you okay?” I ask with a giggle. “You know her?”

“Kind of…..” he admits sheepishly. That awestruck grin stays on his face when he starts to talk about her. “Her name’s Josie. She’s Mayor McCoy’s daughter, and she has her own band - Josie and the Pussycats. Everyone at school, and all of the town really, sees her as a musical staple. She even has an offer to go to Juilliard for music….or that’s what the kids at school say.” He turns his head to look at her again. After a moment or two, he slouches down, almost in defeat. “Too bad I don’t have the freaking guts to go and have a real conversation with her. Every time I see her walk by in the hallway, I get so nervous and have to turn away. Besides….I don’t she knows who I am anyway….so I guess it’s alright.”

He goes quiet, leaving me a little smirk. If he can talk so passionately about his music with me, maybe he can find a way to talk with her. There must be something I can do to help, just to facilitate things….. My head gets cloudy all of a sudden. Not from the thought of helping Archie build up the courage to talk to Josie McCoy, but…..something else. The hazy fog in my head is dark, I can’t tell if there’s a figure in the distance or something, but the figure appears to be running from something, or stumbling. This figure…..a girl…..she’s sobbing. The figure disappearing from my head, yet her cries pierce my eardrums. Where is this coming from? And….who is it?

“Sabrina? Are you okay?” Archie attempts to get my attention. I blink at him, unsure of how to answer. Before I can respond, someone busts through the doors of the diner. The sobs capture our attention. My eyes widen, I stand up in a hurry, out of fear.

V turns to me with red, wet eyes. She’s shivering in her black floral dress, there’s mud on her heels, her pearl necklace is not centered. She sees me and breaks down. “‘Brina….” Out of sheer panic, I run over to her, Archie following behind me. V stumbles over to me and almost collapses into my arms. Everyone around us in the diner starts whispering, not sure of what to make of the scene.

“Ronnie! What happened? Are you okay?” Archie poses the question, but she doesn’t respond. She just keeps crying in my arms. He notices the gossiping crowd and leaves our side. “Hey, leave her alone! Can’t you people mind your own business?”

“V?” I take a soft hold of her head and wipe away her tears. Her eyeliner is all smudged up from the crying. I have so many questions racing through my mind - where is Chuck Clayton? Why are V’s feet all filthy? What happened?

“Chuck….” she gasps, choking back tears. She tries to explain more, but eventually she gives up, resting her head on my shoulder. I stay in my place, attempting to put the pieces together. Why V ran in so suddenly in a state of upset. Why I had that image in my head, or why I heard her crying before she entered? How does this all relate to Chuck?

Then it hits me. A thought creeps in that disgusts me, it makes me mortified. But it’s the only logical answer. Without a word, I hold onto my friend tighter. I stroke her back, to give her some relief. I haven’t met this Chuck Clayton, but whatever he did…..whatever he attempted….. He won’t get away with this. I won’t allow him. No one messes with my friends.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It’s getting late at the trailer. I want to fall asleep after the long afternoon at Pop’s. I wanted to have that conversation with Sabrina, finally tell her everything. That was all before Hiram’s daughter came in seeking refuge after a date gone horribly wrong.

It doesn’t surprise me that the football boys still act awful. Well, not all of them, but FP and Fred seemed to be the only exceptions. When Sabrina pleaded me to bring Veronica back to our place, to let her stay for the night, I guess I got the gist of what happened. I know I have my opinions on Hiram, or whatever negative thoughts I initially had, yet his daughter…..I get why Sabrina has found herself attached to Veronica. So part of me agreeing to let Veronica stay is partially to appease Sabrina, but another part is also out of pure empathy on my end. Whatever happened, or what could have gone much farther south. If only this Chuck Clayton boy was around when I was with Hal….

I allow the girls to take the bedroom for the night. The moment we arrived at the trailer, Sabrina took the young Lodge straight into the bathroom, shutting the door. “I’ll let you know if we need any help, Ali. Thank you.” she mentioned quickly. It’s been almost 45 minutes since coming back, and the girls still haven’t come out. I can’t just stand here like an idiot twiddling my thumbs. And that cat…..he’s been staring at me since we came back. I’m creeped out by this creature Sabrina found out of the blue. I still have no idea where Sabrina found it or why it’s here…...I don’t know why it gives me an unusual feeling of déjà vu everytime I look into its eyes.

To shake off this notion, I decide to make some tea for the girls - a combination of lemon balm and lavender that treats anxiety that has worked for me in years past. When the tea finishes brewing, I pour my mixture into two mugs, one for Veronica and one for Sabrina. I approach the door, stopping outside. I’m tempted to knock, but I stop the sounds of whispering. Instinct wants me to listen in closely. To figure out what the girls are saying. But I don’t want to violate their privacy. I promised Sabrina I wouldn’t sabotage her friendship with Veronica, and I’m afraid this could fuel that fire.

I tap my knuckles on the door, “You girls want some tea?” I don’t get a verbal response from the other side. I’m tempted to tap on the door again, but Sabrina opens the door.

“Thank you, Ali.” she whispers, taking the cups from me. “Seriously…..thank you for letting V stay here for the night.” I stand there stunned. I don’t think I agreed to let her stay for the night, but at this point I’m not in a proper mindset to question the decision. I just nod at her and attempt to smile. I peer into the room and the smile fades. Veronica is sitting on the bed, her hair wet from having taken a shower, wearing one of Sabrina’s nightgowns. She gives me a sorrow expression, then her eyes dart down to the floor.

“Just….let me know if you girls need anything.” I manage to say. Sabrina thanks me once more, then she calls out for her cat. The thing leaves its place and comes into the bedroom. I feel as if a wave of electricity ran right through me when the cat brushes against me. Like I want to puke my guts out. My mouth flies open, and I have to cover it to keep myself from getting sick. I can’t tell why I have this gut feeling, but something is not right about that cat. But I just can’t put my finger on it….

Sabrina quickly smiles at me before closing the bedroom door. Whatever that weird electric wave was, it’s gone now. I take a minute to shake myself out of it before turning off the stove. I still sense an odd vibe in this house. Whether it’s the overpowering presence of magic, or that cat, for some odd reason, it’s overstimulating my senses. I need to get some fresh air - maybe that will do the trick. Help me clear my head. The breeze hits me the moment I step out of the trailer. I inhale the cool air and allow it to cleanse me. I lean down, gripping my fingers onto the railings. I head down the steps and wrap my arm around the wooden pole when I get to the bottom. I glance around the darkened trailer park, the murmuring of voices inside the trailer, the faint light of a fire pit a few trailers away. This is the first time I think Sunnyside Trailers has ever been this quiet. The energy feels so much calmer compared to when FP and I resided here in our youth. Perhaps Gladys coming here to make things better has worked, or even me and Sabrina showing up. Regardless…..I can say that this place is peaceful at night…..

An angry voice raises in the distance. At first, I don’t know where it’s coming from or who is yelling. Then I look across the way and stand up straight. Gladys is marching towards my trailer, yet she’s not paying attention to her surroundings. She’s busy yelling at someone over the phone.

“Look, Lodge, I don’t know what happened to your daughter! All I know is that she showed up at Pop’s like she came straight outta _Evil Dead_!” The conversation brings a sense of dread. I roll my eyes and sigh. Of course, Hiram raises hell when something happens to daddy’s little girl. Gladys continues giving Hiram her two cents as I head over to her. I make an attempt to ask what the deal is when she notices me coming over. She raises a finger, indicating for me to stay out of it, mouthing “Lodge” with her brows raised. I can’t hear too well what he’s saying to her, even if I make an attempt to use magic. Gladys makes a firm line with her lips, almost to keep herself from exploding at him over the phone. After a little bit, the line breaks and she speaks again. “Yeah? Well, good luck sending your boys down here this late at night, dumbass! You make any notion of your presence down here, and the Serpents will be out for blood. And I mean it when I say I’m not cleaning up any more of their shit….or yours for that matter.” Just from overhearing this conversation, I don’t want to clean up after anyone either. Well, Hiram may ignore Gladys and her threats, but he won’t be able to ignore Acid Queen Alice.

I nudge Gladys on the arm and motion for her to give me the phone. She doesn’t move or say anything back. On the other end of the phone, Hiram gets all testy, but his words mumble. I wait another second, then I motion again. Eventually, she hands over her phone and I finally catch the end of Hiram’s rant. He goes on about not knowing the location of his daughter, what it means to the Lodge name, eccetera eccetera, I’m not really paying attention.

He’s about to end his sentence when I cut him off. “I suggest you take back those statements, Manhattan. Your daughter’s with me and Sabrina at the trailer park.” That shuts him up real fast. The other end is quiet for a brief moment, then I hear a light chuckle.

“Oh….good evening, Acid Queen Alice.” He sounds so syrupy and fake, it makes my eyes roll. And he said that nickname again. If only I could just hex his ass over the phone. “It’s good to hear you’re up and moving.”

“I had work, Hiram.” my reply comes off snippy. “How else do you think I’m affording to stay in town? Also…..your little bird friend paid me a visit, so yeah…..I got your note, in case you wondered.”

“I must say, Alice, I should say I’m shocked that you figured out how to communicate with Edgar…..but you are a smart woman with a sharp tongue.” Hold on…..is he complimenting me? Is he trying to divert the conversation by talking about how to train a bird to be bilingual? I shoot a look of annoyance over at Gladys. She raises her brows, as if she’s saying “I know, right?”, in sarcastic sympathy. I let out a long sigh before even re-engaging in conversation with this man.

“Can we get back on the subject regarding your daughter?” My words come out quick and irritated. I would normally force myself to slow down, but 1) I am exhausted after a long 24 hours of work, emotional distress, and high school reunions, 2) I don’t want to leave Sabrina and Veronica alone for too long, especially with that cat’s presence making me a little hesitant, and 3) it’s Hiram. I continue, with Sabrina on my mind, “I already promised Sabrina I’d let Veronica stay over for the night. And besides…..you did mention that you had a positive opinion of Sabrina. Did you not?” I get no response. “Or do I have to read the words from your own letter myself?” That evokes a chuckle from him.

“You really did read it? Good, I almost didn’t believe Edgar when he informed me. Knowing your opinion of me…..I assumed you probably just burned it or tossed it into Sweetwater River.” The tone of his voice in that sentence goes more somber…..a tone that I vaguely remember from the night before. I swear he had that tone when he….. My thoughts are interrupted when his voice chimes back in, “But I’m glad. And I trust that you and Sabrina can look after Veronica.”

“So is that a yes?” I beg the question. “Just wait until morning to come get your daughter? I don’t feel like watching your men go at it with the Serpents, and neither does Gladys for that matter.” I shoot Gladys a sympathetic glance on those words, and she smiles at me. He stays quiet for a couple of seconds, then sighs.

“I suppose.” he states as if he’s about to admit defeat, yet some part of me feels like he’s smiling over on the other end. Is it a smile….for me? “But I will be there early, so don’t act surprised when I show up.”

“Heard you loud and clear.” I scoff.

“Alright, then. Sleep well, Alice.” And with that, he hangs up the phone. I lower my hand and let my gaze stare off into the distance. I don’t get it - he was so ready to send people over to claim his child, yet he backed off the moment he talked to me. He was willing to offer help to me. What the hell is causing Hiram to act like this? Why now?

“Okay then….” Gladys steps in and takes back her phone, snapping me out of my haze. I turn to stare at her. She slides her phone back into her pocket while on the verge of cackling. “Memo to me - next time Hiram Lodge tries to cause trouble around here, I’ll come and get you.” I stay in my place, unable to respond. She picks up on my uneasy state. “You think he’s bluffing?”

“I honestly don’t know what to believe when it comes to him.” I admit in a mumble. “Nothing but smoke and mirrors. He says one thing then…..he could do something else. Been like that since high school.”

“Yeah, FP mentioned something ‘bout that. Surprised they haven’t come for each other’s throats yet, considering how long they’ve known each other.” she tells me. She places her hands on her hips and stares back at her trailer. I look over too, not just to mimic her motion, but because now I’m thinking of FP again. If Gladys is right…..if Hiram really has a negative outlook on the Serpents, how is FP still standing? And considering my history…..

Gladys turns back to me and nudges my arm. “You wanna use the cot at our place? Jug’s staying over at Archie’s, and FP’s letting JB and I have the bed tonight. We can help get the cot over to your place if you want.” I look back over at my trailer…..the bedroom light is still on. I wonder what Sabrina and Veronica are talking about. And what…..what Salem is doing in there. I don’t mind letting Sabrina have the bed - we’ve worked a rotation system where one of us has the bed every other night while the other takes the couch. And frankly, the couch is more of a comfort compared to the places I slept on in my youth.

I turn back to Gladys and shake my head, “I’ll be alright. I’ve practically got the couch all set up anyway. Besides, I think I’ll be up for a little longer looking through some of my books, so it won’t make any much difference.” I finish my explanation, and she gives me a thoughtful smile.

“Alright. See ya in the morning.” she gently squeezes my arm and walks away. A breeze blows through where I’m standing, now all by myself. I wait for the porch lights of the Jones’s trailer to go out before I retreat back into my own trailer. It’s almost silent when I enter. I can hear faint whispering from the bedroom, but I can’t make out their words. And I don’t feel like using magic to eavesdrop on their conversation. I flop down onto the couch, huffing. It was merely hours ago that I sat here making a sad attempt to write out a lengthy confession to Sabrina. That I admitted my whole life story to Gladys. That I received that note from Hiram.

The note….

I rise up. The note Hiram sent to me. Where did I put it? I stumble over to my purse on the kitchen table and dump everything out? Did I throw it out? Did I shove it into my purse before heading into Pop’s? Is it buried in my car? My uniform? Where did that note go? After another search through the garbage pile from my purse, I grab my car keys and head outside again. Another wisp of cold air hits as I fly down the stairs and go through the convertible. Nothing in here. Then I remember - we took Glady’s car to work, not mine.

Growing more frustrated, I head back into the trailer, running out of options, until I see my Pop’s uniform and a sweater hanging on the backs of the kitchen chairs. I run over and dig through the pockets. I’m not lucky at first. Then, feeling out the pockets of my sweater, something crinkles in my hand. I grab for this paper-textured thing and pull it out. Got it!

I meander back over to the couch and sit down, reading Hiram’s words over and over again. Only one sentence sticks in my head. **_I stand true to my statement if you are in need of any assistance during your stay in Riverdale. _**The words are clear as day, yet I don’t understand why he put those words in this note. **_if you are in need of any assistance during your stay_**….Is he bluffing on his promise? Did he just say that he’ll wait until morning or will he come tonight when we won’t suspect it? Am I going crazy? **_if you are in need of any assistance_**….. And how do I know this isn’t all just one giant distraction to keep me from finding Hal and banishing him for good? How do I know that Hiram didn’t find someone to release him….or he doesn’t care about who did it but rather just to let the chaos ensue and watch the carnage from the sidelines, or….. Or does he really mean it? Has my tarnished memories of this town affected my judgement? Is Sabrina right by saying that maybe Hiram has changed for the better? If he knew who I was…..WHAT I am…..why didn’t he reach out sooner? Why did he let me go to that house and bond with Hal? Why did he stand by while Hal and I murdered our classmates, and I had to deal with the wreckage all on my own, and….. All that wreckage. On my own.

**_If you are in need of any assistance_**……

I sit up straight on the couch. Something deep in my subconscious hits me. This isn’t the first time he’s offered assistance to me.

_It was cold that Halloween night, but the lights and music were blaring all the way up in Thornhill. I don’t remember why I finally decided to go to this stupid party, but it was almost close to a last minute decision. I remember telling FP about the whole conversation I had with Hiram hours prior - he was just as sketched out about it as I was. He offered to drive us over there and meet up with Fred and Hermione, still his girlfriend at the time. I half debated on not wearing a costume to this party - I already put on a show with me being the school’s pariah. Besides, I would only make my appearance just to give Hiram his “candy” and leave, that’s what I predetermined. Yet, after some talk and with FP going through my thrifted closet, I caved and threw on one of my fancier thrifted dresses. Granted, I still wore my jeans and boots underneath, and I wore my Serpent jacket over just because it was that damn cold. Well, it was still a costume, so that night, I’d say I was Ozma of Oz. No one really picked up on it, but I was quite proud of my originality. Yet, I did feel quite out of place compared to FP dressed as Ash Williams from **Evil Dead**, and Fred and Hermione as Danny and Sandy from **Grease**. It just reminded me further of how lonely I really was back then, even if I had FP around._

_The drive up to Thornhill weirded me out - not due to the silence, but due to my inability to make conversation with the other passengers. FP drove while I say quietly in the front seat, glaring out the window. Fred and Hermione occupied the whole back seat and tried not to make their making out obvious, which failed because FP saw the whole thing in his rear view mirror. After a while, he just gave up and turned to me. “You okay, Ali?”_

_“Just anxious…..that’s all…..” I muttered, not looking him in the eye. I wasn’t really in the mood for this stupid party. I don’t even know why my youthful conscious agreed to go after a long, internal debate. While I enjoyed the solitude and silence to practice my incoming magic, I needed fresh air. I needed to move. I wanted…...something new._

_FP touched my shoulder, making me turn to face him. He smiled, “Don’t worry, Ali. It’s gonna be fun. And if anyone tries to pull anything---”_

_“We’ll beat their ass!” Fred yelled from the backseat. We both shot him a look, and Hermione began to cackle. FP chuckled and turned his attention back to the road. I remained staring at Fred and Hermione for a little bit. At the time, I wanted a relationship like theirs, though I would never admit it. Not even to FP._

_We arrived at the entrance of Thornhill. I’d never seen the place before in person, I only saw the Blossom’s residence from pictures and news articles, so this peaked my interest. I rested my elbow on the windowsill and looked out in awe. It looked like those places I read out of my favorite gothic novels. This place had the Brontë Sisters and Edgar Allan Poe written all over it with its haunting appearance and architecture. It was all so beautiful, so perfect. That was until Hal burned it to the ground a day after Hermione’s accident._

_FP parked the car in an almost filled up row by the pool. There were already some of my classmates, in full costume, lounging by the water, singing along to some Bon Jovi, and drinking from black and orange plastic cups. The four of us headed up to the front door, hiking up the steep elevated hill. I was still so mesmerized by the overall dark aesthetic of the place, I almost stumbled over a drunk Marty Mantle dressed like Marty McFly. “Watch it!” he slurred before passing out. FP took me by the arm and we continued our trek upward. We eventually reached the front door, and Fred, now up front with Hermione, knocked on the door. I could hear the music blasting from within Thornhill’s walls. Nobody responded for a good minute, then the door opened, revealing Penelope Blossom._

_“Fred! Hermione! SO glad you could make it!” she spoke in a snotty, yet sultry tone. I couldn’t see her costume at first, but from what I could tell, she looked like Madonna from that “Lucky Star” video. She then faced FP, “And you brought the golden boy with you!” I almost gagged. FP had mentioned something about Penelope constantly attempting to flirt with him._

_“Happy Halloween, Blossom.” he coughed. Our greeter allowed Fred and Hermione to walk in, leaving me and FP outside with her. Penelope drifted her gaze from FP straight down to me. Her smile disappeared instantly. Her eyes flared in disgust._

_“What’s SHE doing here?” _

_FP kept silent as he turned to me. I just smirked and gave her a salute. I wasn’t in any mood to utter a word to this girl. Yet, she persisted. “You’re kidding me. You think you can just waltz in here with FP Jones and infect my house with your slimy Serpent hands? Well, I’ll tell you right now, you trashy bitch, I---”_

_Her rant got cut off when a new figure entered the door frame. It was Hiram. He was wearing an all white suit with a blue collared shirt and a yellow tie. He wielded a cane, and his hair was slicked back. I realized after a minute or two from examining his outfit that Hiram was Jay Gatsby, or at least how Robert Redford dressed in the movie. He wrapped his arm around Penelope and smiled, diffusing the situation._

_“Relax, Madame Blossom.” he addressed her before sending his gaze to us. Primarily to me. “The acid queen’s here per my request. She has treats for us.” He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes._

_“Well, take your jingle jangle somewhere else!” Penelope continued to screech. “Besides, you’re not in any….” she stopped, examining my outfit. “What are you even supposed to be? Stevie Nicks? ‘Cause that’s so 1970s.” Penelope cackled at her attempted diss. The boys both directed their attention to me, I guess to see how I would respond._

_I let out a sigh and spoke, “I’m Ozma. You know, Queen of the Land of Oz?” FP smirked and turned back to Penelope, still unimpressed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hiram smile._

_“I didn’t know you still read at an elementary school level, Alice.” Penelope snorted. “How can you be a queen? You look like you came out of Sweetwater River and walked through the sewers! And you don’t have a staff, or a crown!”_

_“Maybe you can be kind enough to let her borrow one of your pageant crowns, Blossom.” FP entered the conversation in my defense. “Unless you don’t want slimy Serpent hands stealing your spotlight, huh?” Her eyes widened and her mouth hung. I had to cover my hand to keep myself from bursting into laughter out loud. Hiram still kept his eyes on me._

_“I think it’s a neat costume.” he spoke. “Very original to go as an underrated literary character.” My stomach began to knot up. He just complimented me. He thought my costume was neat. The thought made me nauseous. Hiram stepped to the side, distancing himself from Penelope to let FP and I through. The other girl, still irritated at my presence, huffed and walked away. FP entered the house, yet I stayed outside. He whipped his head back toward me in concern._

_“It’s alright, Ali.” FP whispered, gesturing his head back towards where Penelope ran off to. “I’ll make sure she won’t bite at ya for the rest of the night.” I wish I did stay by his side all through that night. Or at least that I brought him with me to the Conway House. But he wasn’t there when I was sent away. He didn’t know about my safety until the next morning. If only I knew…._

_Taking a deep breath, I stepped through, giving Hiram one last glare. I pulled the drugs out of one pocket of my Serpent jacket and slammed the baggie into his chest. “There’s your candy, Manhattan.” I spoke quickly, then I joined FP as we officially entered the party together._

_It was a loud and chaotic scene. Most of the kids were on the verge of blackout drunk, some high from the party favors I supplied, others practically having sex with their costumes on. FP and I did get separated at one point - he got dragged away by some of his football teammates, but I wasn’t a hundred percent left by myself. I engaged in some small talk with some of my classmates and just mostly people watched. By the fireplace, Darryl Doiley chugged beer through a funnel while spilling some on his Boy Scout uniform. In the corner, Mary Maiden, dressed as Princess Leia, started a philosophical debate with some of the Vixens. And on the couch, Keller stripped off his Batman mask to get intimate with Sierra, paying homage to Eartha Kitt as Catwoman. I kept having to explain my costume to multiple people, but after a while, I just gave up and found a quiet area in the kitchen to hide. _

_It felt like I was in a time warp - I lost track of the time and had no clue of how late it was. I murmured some calming spell to ease my anxiety, but it didn’t do much. After a while, I did leave my little sanctuary in the kitchen to rejoin the land of the living. The social gathering in the living room seemed dead, except for one voice right front and center. _

_“So what if I have my suspicions? I think that Reaper is still out there!” Penelope fought with one of the jocks on her couch. _

_“But didn’t they catch the guy?”_

_“They caught A guy. You know my mother led the raid against that Riverdale Reaper. She was the one who suggested they bury the man out by Pickens Park, since, of course, we Blossoms have close connections to General Pickens.” she spoke loudly of her ancestry. The whole room groaned. Guess I wasn’t the only one annoyed by Penelope Blossom’s constant boasting of her life. I stayed in my hiding spot, glancing around the crowd in ease, then I saw Hiram residing in one of the love seats. _

_He sat up straight and addressed her. “You think the real Reaper is waiting to attack again? After what I’ve been hearing, I’m not so sure he can top what he did to the Conway family.” That caused some people to laugh while others went quiet. _

_A mix of voices rose in the room. “Poor family.” “What a bastard.” “He’s probably just taking a nap in the sewers waiting for a new victim."_

_“You say your family caught someone who resembled the Reaper.” Hiram inquired our host further, “What if the real Reaper is hiding out in town? Perhaps he’s waiting in that house.” My heart started racing at the last of his words. I passed by that house merely days before this party. Before Hiram and FP dragged me out of my shadows. Whatever voice called out to me that day, it didn’t sound like a murderer of a nuclear family. It didn’t sound human either._

_I stepped into the group. “The house is abandoned.” I called out. Hiram fixated his gaze on me, smirking. Everyone else seemed to stare at me too. I continued, “Got all cleared out 25 years ago. No one’s stepped foot into that house in years. Even people who still live on the street don’t go near it with a ten foot pole.” Some muttered in agreement and whispered to each other. Penelope remained bored._

_“Wow. Nice evaluation, Nancy Drew.” She stepped towards me, her hand glued to her hip. “Did any of those Serpents you sleep around with tell you that? Do you even know that it’s accurate? Where’s your research?”_

_“Oh, it’s up your ass, Penelope.” I threw back at her, provoking a reaction out of everyone present. She just rolled her eyes, then she glared down at the ground. At that point, I didn’t know that she was planning out my fate. Or that she planted the seeds to people Hal and I murdered…..including her own._

_Once she formulated her course of action in her head, she looked back up at me and took another step in. “You think you know everything about the Conway House, Alice? Why don’t you go there and prove yourself.” The room went silent. My heartbeat picked up, my palms clammed up. It was an insane and dangerous dare to take on in 1992, and maybe it still is. But back then, I knew a trip out there for an extended period of time would not bring positive results. I stayed unresponsive while the room filled with chatter again. They all began to whisper of if I would go out and take on Penelope’s quest._

_She spoke again, her voice now low and unsettling. “Do I need to repeat myself, snake girl? Go to the Conway House. I. Dare. You.” The crowd whooped in excitement. My confidence was starting to crumble. Penelope smiled maliciously. And Hiram…..he was the only one in that room who didn’t give in to the whooping or hollering, nor did he jump in to stop Penelope. He remained in his seat, his face neutral, his eyes still on me._

_I knew what people said about the Conway House. I knew what went down, what to avoid, why to not go over there at night. Especially on a night like Halloween. My human side was aware of these reasons and wanted me to listen to logic. But my witch side….I wanted to show Penelope up. To make them all stop talking. And by that point of the night, I had enough of this party._

_I swallowed the forming lump in my throat, then glared down at her. “You’re on, Blossom.” The kids cheered and began to clap. I began to back away, Penelope’s smiling growing as she waved goodbye, and I hurried out of the room. I half-considered wanting to find FP, or even Fred and Hermione, to drive me over to the house. To go in with me. But the house was dark and the music was loud and I swore I would have sensory overload if I didn’t get out of there. The entryway to the house was deserted by the time I marched out the front door. The cold air hit me instantly, I could see my breath form. I started my way down the incline, turning my back to the haunting and mesmerizing world I just entered hours before. Behind me, something….someone…..was hustling to catch up to me._

_“Alice, wait!” the voice rang out. I stopped, my frustration building. I turned to find Hiram catching his breath. “Are you sure you want to go down there all by yourself? Do you want me to send someone with you?” I wasn’t sure if the cold air was stinging my eyes, but they started to tear up. I glared off to the side, not wanting to make my emotions surface, and huffed._

_He went on, “I mean it. I just want you to be safe. Just in case you do need any assistance tonight….or in the future…..” I brought my gaze back to him. Hiram wanted to provide services to me? A Southside freak? The Acid Queen? I could’ve laughed out loud._

_“I can fend for myself, Manhattan.” I muttered, starting to turn away from him. I walked about a few steps, then looked back. He was still standing there, half in remorse. I looked back up at Thornhill once more. “Besides,” I called out, “I’d rather being dancing with the devil at that house then doing nothing here at this lame ass party. Happy Halloween, Hiram.” With that, I walked away from Thornhill, and I made my way to the place where my future in Riverdale ended._

The note crinkles in my hands. I have to glance up to keep myself from getting all misty eyed and ruining the ink. Looking back on that night, I had so much unnecessary resentment against most of the people I knew. Even bystanders and silent agents like Hiram. While I guess I was justified in my anger and my envy, I realize that it made me destroy my chances of positive change in this town. It made me more vulnerable for Hal to prey on me. If I wasn’t being so naive, if I stuck with FP, or Fred, or even Hermione during the party, if I had just taken Hiram’s offer that night……

If I had taken his offer then…...if I take it now…….

An idea comes to me. It’s….I can’t….I don’t want to…..but it may be the only way. I can’t stop Hal on my own. I don’t know how to track him, or to find an effective spell to bring him down. I don’t have the proper training to do it.

But Hiram does.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

The cups of tea feel warm in my hands, and I think I can smell some lavender. Maybe the scent can help ease V’s tension and trauma. I notice Ali glancing over at her before she turns back to me. “Just….let me know if you girls need anything.” she states hesitantly. I know it wasn’t her intention, or mine for that matter, to let V stay over for the night. But that was before Chuck Clayton.

“Thanks.” I respond. I spot Salem on the floor a few feet behind Ali. Perhaps he could bring V some comfort….maybe even some advice on how to handle this situation. “Come on, Salem!” I call out to him. He prances into the bedroom, brushing past Ali. Her mouth flies open before she covers it. Almost as if she’s having a bad reaction to Salem’s presence in the trailer. How odd….

I give her a smile before I shut the bedroom door, turning back to V. Salem curls up on the bed a few inches from her, licking his paw. I join them on the bed and hand one of the cups to V. “How are you feeling? Any better?” She takes a quiet sip of her tea before answering.

“Somewhat.” she exhales. She starts shivering, maybe from the cold air or her wet hair, I’m not sure. She sniffles then takes another slow sip. “I…..I don’t get it ‘Brina. Chuck never did anything awful when I first interacted with him. He was always such a gentleman…..always so nice to me…..and the other girls in class…..” Other girls? These words stick out in my head. There were others? The thought also makes Salem perk his head up.

“You think there were others?”

“I’m not sure. Well, now that I think of it, some of the other football players in our class were always snickering in the back…..and other girls would give us weird glances whenever we practiced our number. Like…..they were worried about my well-being or something…..”

“Sounds like this boy’s caused trouble long before you ladies came into town.” Salem pipes in. “Men these days just don’t know how to behave themselves. Mortal ones, if we’re going into specifics.” I have to think over Salem’s comment for a moment. Harvey would never do anything to the extent of….whatever it is Chuck did. I don’t think Archie or Jughead would either. But Salem has a point - there have been plenty of jerks at Baxter who used their status as athletes to prey on other students. Especially over people like my friends…..even……

It’s been a while since I have thought about what the Weird Sisters and I did to those jocks that beat up Suzie. The plan was meant to be a simple prank - make them believe one thing, then simply scare them with another. I never intended for the Sisters to almost kill them. I try to put it past me when those memories come into my head. I haven’t even told Ali about it, or V for that matter. But with Chuck Clayton having been able to get away with his awful actions, and him going after V like that…...it’s a dangerous idea to toy with that kind of magic again. I don’t want to resort to it. But what good can be accomplished if I sit back and do nothing?

“He shouldn’t get away with this.” I break the silence. V shoots me a confused look, and Salem tilts his head with a meow. I rise up from the bed and start to pace. I try to think of ways to make Chuck learn his lesson…..ways that maybe don’t involve dark magic. There has to be a logical, mortal method to get justice. “If there’s other girls who went through your situation, someone has to speak up! No one should walk free from hurting others! Even if they are a football player!” Salem sits up and gives a little nod of approval. However, V remains unmoved.

“Maybe that’s how things work in Greendale, ‘Brina.” she sighs, “Not around here. Even if Archie tried to vouch for me, nothing would get accomplished. Chuck’s the coach’s son, and a star player. They’d be more worried about his reputation than my own safety.” She goes to say more, but a voice from outside breaks up the conversation. Salem chirps, and I turn to the window. I look out and see Aunt Ali with Mrs. Jones. Ali’s on the phone with someone…..she seems irritated. Who could be calling her this late at night?

“Let me guess - Daddy wants to rip apart Sunnyside Trailers to find where I am?” V asks dead-pan. I look back at her and she wipes away a tear. “Of course he found out. Somehow, one way or another, my father always gets involved with everything in my life.”

I blink, then I snap my fingers. An idea comes to me. Mister Lodge! He’d do anything for V! “We could use him! If he is that high up in the Church of Night, like you said, he could convince Chuck to own up to his actions and make him step down from the football team! That way, we protect the identities of anyone else that dealt with him, and we get you justice!” On the bed, Salem snickers. He jumps off and comes closer to me.

“Cute idea, Sabrina. But having Daddy stepping in won’t solve your problems. ” he starts to sound more serious, as he did earlier this morning. I didn’t realize that Salem’s negative outlook on Mister Lodge paralleled Ali’s views…..yet his outlook appears more negative. Much more sinister. He looks up at me, his strange little eyes appearing darker in the bedroom. His voice goes flat as he continues, “You want real justice? Don’t rely on the willpower or on the kindness of strangers. You have powers, Sabrina. And so does your friend. Use them.”

I stand there, not saying a word. I do have powers, yes, but it could be risky to pull something magical out on Chuck, especially after that prank with the Weird Sisters. Imagine if they heard about this situation. Or about any of my time here in Riverdale. What would other witches my age be saying about me now? Would they call me a coward for running away? For not committing myself to the Church of Night? That I’m too caught up in the human world? They probably all think that I am a disappointment to the Spellman name. But I’m not. The more that I think about it……

“Salem has a point, ‘Brina.” V speaks, unexpectedly. Did she just…..how can she….. I look up at her, and so does Salem. He tilts his head sideways and meows. V readjusts herself on the bed and huffs. “The only way we can make Chuck confess to what he did is if we take the initiative. We have to be the ones to do something.” I’m still too dumbfounded to speak. How did she know what Salem told me? Salem leaves my side and jumps back onto the bed.

“You can hear me?”

“I guess so? I wasn’t so sure at first who Sabrina was talking to when you came out of that house….but now it makes sense.” She glances over at me briefly with a small smile. I remain confused yet amazed at the shift of our conversation. She turns back to Salem, “Is….is that a bad thing? That I can communicate with you even though your Sabrina’s familiar?” V lifts her hand and holds it near him. I think she wants to pet him but doesn’t know if he would be okay with it. Salem takes a second or two to look V up and down. It gets quiet, and I’m not sure if he approves of this whole situation. Salem looks at her palm, then straightens his head, staring directly into her eyes. He stays like this for a while. It gets colder in the bedroom for no reason. I want to turn and see if the window is open by accident, but I don’t move. I can’t move. I don’t know what’s happening between Salem and V. It’s as if…...as if he sees something about her.

Finally, Salem happily meows and nuzzles his head into V’s palm. “No. It’s not a bad thing at all, Miss Lodge!” She laughs in relief, and I’m stunned. It’s the first time she’s laughed since this afternoon. V then grabs Salem and places him in her lap, stroking his black fur. He starts to purr and addresses me, “You made the right call to join forces with Miss Lodge, Sabrina!”

I allow myself to grin ever so slightly. It’s a relief that V is feeling somewhat better, and that Salem has a high opinion of her…...but their interaction, whatever connection they just fostered, leaves me a bit baffled. Maybe it makes sense why Ali acts so hesitant….. Regardless, Salem is here to act as my mentor and guide. And V is someone I can trust. Whatever we decide to do about Chuck Clayton, it will be better, smarter, than the stunt I pulled with the Weird Sisters against those boys.

I take a deep breath and move away from my place, sitting next to V and Salem on the bed. “So…...what’s our plan?”

** _XXXXXXXX_ **

** _End of Chapter Four_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOO BOI....
> 
> What will Sabrina and Veronica do to bring Chuck to justice? What's the deal with Salem? And....will Alice learn to break down her walls and ask Hiram for help?
> 
> Tune in next week, my dudes


	6. Big Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY THANKSGIVING WEEKEND EVERYONE!
> 
> Sorry to delay the posting of this chapter (I was working all day yesterday), but you now have the newest chapter of this supernatural/film noir(y) epic!

**ALICE**

The sky is a blended mosaic of blue, violet, and pink when I wake up. It’s the first time in a while that I haven’t been passed out from an attack or heavily slept in since arriving into town. I’m actually up before the girls in the bedroom. When I do come to my senses, I get up from the couch and check the time on the stove. Is it only 5:40? I move around the living room real quick and glance down at the little coffee table by the sofa. Last night, I began scribbling down how I would go about getting Hiram involved into my Hal problem. I pick up my notes, attempting to read my handwriting in the faint morning light.

** _Go to Pembrooke? Have him come to Pop’s? The trailer park? Do I get Gladys involved too?_ **

I must have passed out while in the process of formulating a plan. I lower the paper down and let out a long groan. I think about going back to sleep, but the thought of Hiram dropping by at any moment between now and the later half of the morning keeps me jolted. And I want to stay awake in case Sabrina or Veronica come out from the bedroom.

I decide to throw on my boots and a sweater, and I head out of the trailer. Maybe a good, long walk can allow me to finalize the details in my head. The leaves on the ground crunch as I walk to the outer edges of the trailer park, heading more towards the woods. The sun begins to peek through the trees, making the sky more pink and orange. I see my breath every time I exhale. My brain goes through the options on repeat. What do I even say to Hiram? Would he take me seriously? Should I even trust him to begin with?

I begin to talk out loud, “So remember that guy you saw me with at school? The one who scared you that night? Yeah, well he’s a demon and he’s out and…..No that won’t work.” My muttering turns into rambling after a good amount of walking. Eventually I get frustrated and turn back around, returning to my trailer.

The whole situation is oddly symmetrical to me. Just years ago, I planned with Hal to get back at Hiram for….whatever it was he did. Now, I have to meet with Hiram to take down Hal. The roles are reversed now, yet the scenarios are similar. Somewhat similar, if I’m honest. In Hiram’s case, all he ever did was play in on the jokes classmates made about me, hit me up for drugs those few times, and called me the Acid Queen. Hal….he’s a whole other problem, and much worse. Now that I’ve had the 25 years to think about it, he always had been a problem. Ever since I let Hal come to school with me.

_It was his idea to go after Hiram first. It was a week after the Halloween Party, and by that point people had dropped the talk about my trip to the Conway House. Only two people still brought it up religiously. One was Penelope, just because she wanted to pester me. The other was Hiram…...for reasons I didn’t want to know back then. At that point, Hal became a bit more familiar with the faces of Riverdale High, Hiram included, and he began to formulate some opinions of their behavior all on his own._

_“So this boy showed up from New York?” he asked me when we were in my room after school one day. I think I was putting away some laundry when we had this conversation. I huffed at his question and folded up a flannel FP let me borrow._

_“Wouldn’t surprise me if that’s where he gets his “holier than thou” atttitude. That or the fact that his family is loaded.” I made air quotes with my fingers. Hal laid on my bed all confused at the gesture. I rolled my eyes before remembering that he’s a supernatural creature - he wouldn’t know my kind of language, or one of any kid in the 90s. _

_He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and interlacing his fingers. “And he just thinks he can use you as a drug mule?”_

_“It’s not that big of a deal, Hal.” I tried to shrug it off. I turned my back to him so I could tuck some pants in my drawer. “It’s the general rep I’ve received. I’m everyone’s candy girl in Riverdale. Probably will be until I can get myself out of this place.” It was true - with college coming so soon, I wanted to get as far away from Riverdale as possible. I didn’t want to be stuck having to care for the Serpents, or for my father. I wanted to be someplace where I could truly better my witchcraft. Where I no longer had to be Acid Queen Alice. I could be….just Alice._

_I shut the drawer and wiped my hands on my jeans. “Besides, Hiram Lodge is nothing compared to most of the kids at school.”_

_“Yet, he doesn’t do anything to help you.” I turned back around to find Hal rising up from the bed. His face held no emotion. His lips were in a flat line. But his eyes…..his eyes gave away a subtle sense of anger. A sense I wouldn’t really pick up on until the chaos was already ensued. He walked over to me and stopped just inches away from where I stood. He looked down at my Converses, picking up each detail in my shoelaces, the colored bands._

_He brought his eyes up to meet mine, “Why does he call you Acid Queen Alice? And not just Alice?”_

_I didn’t know how to answer. In my head, I knew Hiram did it because everyone at school did. It was my nickname long before he arrived from New York. Yet…..he used that name for me more than the other kids. Most would just resort to “that Southside freak”, or “Smith”.....even “Serpent Slut” to others like Penelope. But to Hiram, I was and always would be the Acid Queen._

_Was there a reason Hal poked into this? He only saw Hiram at school, and the two had barely interacted when we all had class. Hal only knew what information I gave about Hiram. But even from that small amount…._

_“What are you thinking?” I asked more as a whisper. I don’t think I ever knew what thoughts went on in Hal’s head. I wondered how demons and familiars saw the human world and how they responded to witches interacting with humans. Even witches who were pretending to be human._

_Hal stepped closer in, curling his fingers under my chin and lifting my head up. I could feel a jolt of electricity rumble through me as he did this. He began to show more emotion in his face. “If he wants to call you a queen, he needs to start treating you as such.”_

I still remember the look in his eyes from that conversation. I still don’t know what reasons influenced Hal to have me go after Hiram first. I’m at least lucky that Hiram is still here, that out of everyone we attacked…..Hiram is still breathing. Because it will take much more than my own magic to stop Hal.

I walk back up the steps to enter my trailer and open the door. I feel calmer entering this morning. Whatever vibe came into the house seems to have died down - I’m not sure if it’s from Veronica staying the night, or any of Sabrina’s anxiety mixed with my own, or that cat….

I grab the paper of plans from the coffee table and bring it with me into the kitchen. I continue to look over the possible conversation starters as I start to make some cider - a blend of apple, cinnamon, nutmeg, and hints of pumpkin. It’s a drink I learned to make from an older witch I ran into years before I came to Greendale, and it’s become an unspoken fan-favorite at the bakery during the autumn. The aroma of the blended spice waft in the air, bringing some warmth on this cold morning. It calms me…. Maybe it can calm the girls too when they eventually wake up.

It’s about 7:35 when I finish brewing the cider. I make myself a cup and leave the mixture on a low-heat, just in case Sabrina and Veronica want a warm cup in a little while. I head back to the couch and start pouring through my books, taking a sip of the warm morning beverage. It takes each part of my brain to not count down the minutes until Hiram arrives to pick up his daughter. The patience kills me. I bounce my knee and tap my ankle onto the rug nervously. I speed read through a couple of spell books, not finding much that could help in the long run. My fingers grip on my mug, I can feel the burning sensation of the cider through the ceramic.

The bedroom door opens with a creak. I jolt out of my state for a moment at the noise. Then, my shoulders release from their hold near my ears, and I exhale. Veronica comes out of the bedroom and grabs her coat from the night before, giving me a little wave. There’s no sight of Sabrina or that cat behind her, so I assume Sabrina is still asleep. I stand up, setting my cup down.

“Has my father shown up yet?” Veronica whispers as I come over to her. My lips form a tight line as I shake my head. The young Lodge glances around the trailer, I’m not sure whether due to shyness or to avoid small talk. She eventually returns her gaze to me, “Thank you for letting me stay the night. I thought about going home, but…..” Her voice drops. It doesn’t require me having to read her mind to understand what could be going on in the girl’s head. She didn’t want to go back alone in the dark, especially with Hiram wanting to know every detail of her whereabouts. And now with Hal out of the house…..

“No, it’s alright.” I force myself to say something. “You were better off staying with me and Sabrina. It would have been too risky to go back all by yourself….” I don’t finish the sentence. I stare at the young girl, taking in her facial features. She really does look like Hermione, she has her . She has Hiram’s eyes….. My face softens. Then my heart races. It hits me. Hiram’s daughter is just as much of a target for Hal as is Sabrina. And who knows what would happen if Hal ever got his hands on Veronica….

I come back to my senses and head into the kitchen area. “You want some cider? I made it fresh.”

“Are you sure?” I hear her ask, but I grab a travel mug for her anyway.

“Trust me, I’ve made enough for Sabrina and I split for the next couple of days.” I respond as I ladle the cider into the mug. I set the ladle down and screw the lid on before I hand the mug over to her. She takes it a smiles.

“Thank you, Miss…..” she pauses, her gaze drifting off. She looks back up, “I’m sorry. What would you like for me to call you? Miss Beauchamp? Miss….” So Hiram hasn’t shared with his daughter about my true identity.

“Alice is fine.” I croak.

“Just…..Alice?” I’m about to respond, but something catches my attention. From the distance, outside the trailer, I can hear a car pulling into the driveway. I take a deep breath.

“Yeah, just Alice.” I head over to the window and peer out. The same vehicle that Hiram pulled up in from the soccer game sits outside my trailer. I can see him step out slowly, examining the scene around him. Is he expecting trouble from the Serpents?

“Did you know my father growing up?” I lean back from the window. It takes a moment to process the question. With my back straightened, I rotate towards Veronica. She takes a nervous sip of her cider. “I thought your name was Wendy Beauchamp. You used it at that soccer game a couple of weeks ago, and you use it at Pop’s. Does he know you as Alice?”

“It’s…..” I start to provide an answer but stop myself. I forgot Veronica and Sabrina were there with us when he approached me. Could she tell, even from that interaction, that Hiram could see past my facade? “It’s complicated. But yeah, he knows me as Alice…...and I knew him.” I finally answer. I notice Veronica’s face soften. Her eyes express her contemplation, and her low spirits. Something in my subconscious stops me from adding in, _And your mother too_.

“How do you view him?” she poses a new question. I stay in my place, out of words. How did I view Hiram? Did my hatred and sour opinion of him stem from Hal’s opinions of him, or were they all fostered on my own? Was I making my emotions up? What happened to me within these 25 years has changed how I think of others. I don’t open up much unless out of pure panic, like I did with Gladys, or if I do have a fair amount of trust in them. But with someone like Hiram, where I think I know one thing only for it to be another, my chances of trusting him are up in the air. Yet…..

There’s a knock on the door. I let out a breath and march over to the door. He’s studying the details of the staircase arch in wonder when I open the door. He fixes his sight on me and grins.

“Morning.” his greeting is short and simple. I rest my forearm on the doorway and peer out to the driveway. His ride remains the only vehicle apart from my own in that little space. “Don’t worry.” he follows up, “I came from Pembrooke alone.” I’m actually shocked. Maybe I really did talk him down from having his men invade Serpent territory.

I return my focus back to him. “I was just about to say, you forgot your entourage, Michael Corleone.” the sarcasm naturally slips from my tongue. I push away from the door frame and back up to let him through. Hiram enters the trailer. He glances around until he spots Veronica by the kitchen table.

“_Mija_.” He rushes over to his daughter and pulls her in for an embrace. I watch their interaction briefly…..it’s different from how he talked to her during the game. He seems more caring, more panicked for her wellbeing. She’s more open, more willing to seek comfort. I look away and find myself staring at my plans on the coffee table. Would it be a good time to ask him now? “Alice.” he calls out to me. I face the Lodges, almost clinging to one another. He gives me a faint smile. “Thank you.”

“Thank Sabrina. She did more to help your daughter.” I take a couple of hesitant steps towards them. The thought of Veronica being just as much in danger as Sabrina still lurks. I’m tempted to ask Hiram to stay so we can talk about this situation, but from his jittery stance…..it seems he might be in a hurry to get somewhere, I don’t know whether for Church business or another task. My sight darts down to the mug of cider in Veronica’s hand, then I look back up, heading into the kitchen. “You want any cider, Hiram? I made some for your daughter. I guess it’d be rude if I didn’t offer you any either.”

“If you’re offering, I wouldn’t refuse.” his voice perks up, more genuine than I anticipated. I finish getting his drink together and hand him the thermos. His fingers graze mine as her reaches for it - they’re cold from the weather outside, but it doesn’t shock me. The touch, whether intentional or completely by accident, has a calming quality to it. The same as when he helped clean me up during our encounter at Pop’s. I redirect my attention upward, my eyes staring at his.

A little voice in my head wants me to ask him to stay so we can talk. It wants me to open up about those fears I have accumulated while being here. It wants me to ask about what he knows about Hal, if he ever suspected much more during high school. It wants me to trust him like my life depends on it. My brain screams, yet my mouth stays glued shut. Maybe now might not be the best time.

“Have a good rest of your day, Alice.” he breaks our little moment of silence, starting to walk away. Veronica follows him in suit. “And thank you, really.” he addresses me one last time with a wave. He heads out the door, and Veronica smiles at me before leaving herself. I keep my eye on the door as I let myself back into the counter in the kitchen. I almost regret not saying anything else to him.

The bedroom door opens, catching my attention. Sabrina, not wearing her pajamas, comes out with something small in her hands. A pearl necklace? She glances around then turns to me. “Hey, Ali. Did V already leave?” Behind her, Salem emerges and stands at her feet. I glare down at the animal. The weird energy I experienced last night around this cat slowly emerges, but not as boldly.

I look back up at her, pointing at the door. “She just walked out with her dad.”

“Okay, thanks!” she rushes her words and runs out of the kitchen, Salem keeping up with a meow. She hurries out the door, leaving it somewhat open. I can hear her calling out to the young Lodge, but I can’t make out the conversation too well. I turn back to stare into the bedroom. Sunlight starts to appear through the windows above the half-made bed. There’s a notebook on the bed, open to some pages covered in scribble notes. From what I can see in the distance, it looks vaguely similar to how I tried to plan out my conversation with Hiram. What are these girls planning to do?

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

The sunlight starts to illuminate the bedroom as I look over our plan. It took V, Salem, and me a couple of hours to perfect, to every last detail, our method to bring Chuck Clayton to justice. I examine the notes scribbled on my notebook while I wait for V to finish up in the bathroom. Salem sprawls himself out next to me, his black fur shining in the sunlight. I giggle and scratch his belly.

V emerges, “So when I get back to Pembrooke, I’ll reach out to Chuck and make sure we can get this thing arranged at his house. If that doesn’t work, we might have to come up with a Plan B, because I don’t know what chances we have of executing this at Pembrooke, with my father around.”

“Hopefully it should.” I try to keep my voice down. I thought I heard the front door open when V and I woke up this morning, yet I don’t want to risk bothering Ali so early in the morning.

Salem chirps. “It will. And the boy is a fool if he turns you away.” V smirks and ruffles his fur. She slides on her shoes, checking over her reflection in the mirror.

“It might be a while before I get to it…..I expect Daddy will probably lecture me about my behavior and what-not. But when I get the free time later…..I’ll let you know if we’re in.” She shoots me a nervous look. I know I’m just as nervous, but Salem is right - the plan has to work. It’s nothing like what I did to those Baxter boys with the Weird Sisters, but it will be just as effective. The boys from Baxter only harmed one girl, who I happened to be friends with, that they deemed unfavorable. But Chuck Clayton is a different case, one that has brought harm to more than just V. And with what we have planned, he’ll have no other choice but to confess to what he did.

“Okay.” I answer quickly. She smiles, then she heads out of the bedroom. I rise up from the bed and begin to change out of my pajamas. I can smell cinnamon and hints of apple all the way from the bathroom, it smells delicious. I finish getting ready when I look down at the dresser - V forgot her pearl necklace!

In a hurry, I grab for the necklace and head out of the bedroom. Salem grumbles and jumps off the bed to follow me. I step out into the kitchen and find Ali rested against the kitchen counter. I glance around the trailer for any sign of V, or her father. I turn back to face Ali, “Hey, Ali. Did V already leave?”

I look back up at her, pointing at the door. “She just walked out with her dad.” she points towards the door. Relieved, I begin to head in that direction, quickly thanking her. I run down the steps, Salem keeping up with my pace, and I am able to catch up to V and Mister Lodge.

“V, wait!” I am almost out of breath when I get to them. V stands there baffled, then she notices the necklace in my hands. “You forgot this.” I hand it over to her and attempt to regulate my heartbeat again. I turn to Mister Lodge and give him a wave.

“I didn’t realize I left this. Thanks.” V takes the pearls and fixates it around her neck.

“You sure that’s everything you have, Veronica?” he speaks up, to her dismay and embarrassment. She tells him, in an irritated tone, that nothing else is left in the trailer, which I confirm. “Well then,” Mister Lodge then addresses me, “I’ll see to it that you and your caretaker are compensated for your hospitality.”

Salem grumbles at my feet, not as bad as he was the first time around Mister Lodge, but he still comes across ill-favored. I pick him up, despite his squirminess, before providing a response. “We don’t mind having Veronica over, right Salem?”

“Oh, trust me. I’d rather you stay with this fair young woman than with that Serpent boy anyday.” Salem’s voice rings through my head. V must have heard him too because the comment makes her chuckle. She reaches out and itches his head. Mister Lodge directs his attention to the trailer, allowing V and I some time to talk.

“I’ll see if I can have you stay with me tomorrow.” she whispers. “That way we can go confront Chuck together. We’ll say it’s a sleepover.”

“Okay.” I confirm with her. “Just let me know if we’re in with Chuck.”

“I won’t forget. See you later, girl.” V heads towards her ride, waving me goodbye. Salem wriggles free from my hold and jumps down to the ground. He prances off back over to the staircase as Mister Lodge approaches me, still staring at the trailer.

“You’re lucky to have her, Sabrina.” I don’t respond, just out of confusion. Is he talking about V? Wouldn’t his tone come off more snobbish? More pressing into his status with the Church? My mouth hangs when I finally come to the realization that he isn’t talking about his daughter.

So he does remember Aunt Ali. I manage to form a smile. He knows about Ali. Then why would he go along with her “Wendy Beauchamp” identity, even around me? Did Auntie Z ever talk to him about her? Or….was he not expecting her to show up with me?

He finally looks at me. “I’m glad that she offered to come look after you in Riverdale. And, frankly, I’m glad that you’re looking after her too.”

“She’s a good witch.” I speak up, directing my own gaze at the trailer. Even with V’s situation at the forefront of my thoughts, I still am eager to keep an eye on Ali. To learn why being in Riverdale makes her so sad. To know what she’s been wanting to tell me long before we left Spellman Mortuary just weeks ago.

“Take care, Sabrina. And take care of her too.” Mister Lodge nods at me before turning away. I watch as he disappears into the same vehicle V just entered into moments ago. The all-black car pulls out of the driveway, circling around our section of the trailer park, vanishing into the fog. I start thinking about Ali’s connection to Mister Lodge. If he knows about her, that must mean he must have some indication of what happened to her. Maybe he might even know something about the Riverdale Reaper….

“I’m still not getting good vibes from that man, in case you were wondering.” Salem expresses from behind me. I roll my eyes and peer down at my familiar. “Veronica, I can at least trust. But her father….his words sound like lies.”

I cross my arms. Something’s not right about Salem’s attitude. “Then why did he help Aunt Ali get back to the trailer the same night I found you? Doesn’t sound a string of lies to me. You’re just being paranoid, Salem. As you are about Jughead.”

“Excuse me for looking after your wellbeing, Miss Spellman.” he grumbles as he heads up the staircase. I eventually make my way up and re-enter the trailer. The flavors of apple, cinnamon, and pumpkin whirl through the air. At the kitchen table, Ali is writing something on a sheet of paper. She stops and looks up at me as I shut the door.

“There’s fresh cider on the stove, sweetheart.” she gestures to the stovetop before going back to her writing. I start to wonder what Ali could be working on, but my thoughts are put on hold by the aroma of these autumn spices and flavors. I grab a mug and pour a large amount of cider into it. I look back into the open bedroom, realizing I forgot to shut the door behind me. Did Ali see the notebook of V and mine’s plans about Chuck? I shrug it off, heading to the table to join Ali.

“Did you sleep okay?” I ask as I sit down, taking my first sip of the warm beverage. The cinnamon tastes fiery and the pumpkin flavor coats my throat. Ali stops her scribbling and engages in our conversation.

“Yeah….surprisingly so.” she speaks to me slowly. “Best sleep I’ve had since coming here.”

“I mean, were you okay with me and V having the bed last night?” She pauses for a moment. Her fingers circle the outside of her own mug.

“It wasn’t that bad, Sabrina.” she shrugs off the notion. “I’ll take the couch anyday compared to where I’ve slept on before.” She grips onto her mug and sips on her cider. Behind me, Salem leaps onto the couch and curls himself into a ball. I stare at Salem, my mind still preoccupied on Mister Lodge and his potential knowledge of Ali’s past.

I rotate back to face her, my interests taking over. “Did you grow up here? In Sunnyside Trailers? Did you and your parents live like Jughead and his family?” She goes quiet, her focus aimed down at the table. I’m worried that I’ve made her panic and that I brought on a sensitive subject. To be fair, I don’t remember if Ali did ever mention anything to me about her parents, how she came to use her powers, how she survived going to school….

Ali sets down her mug and swallows a lump in her throat. She begins, “Yeah. Was born and raised here. My father was…..quite the active member of the Serpents. Obsessed with riding around on his bike with his Serpent buddies. Ready to fight rivaling gangs…... making sure I would follow his legacy.” Her voice goes out for a second. I spot her right hand flying down to an area between her thigh and her hip. She shuts her eyes and inhales, her fingers itching at that area. A tattoo? Ali was a Serpent? Just like Jughead’s parents? Then….then what about her own mother? I’m about to inquire about her mother when Ali continues, “And my mother…..well, I didn’t know her. She left when I was 5 years old. All I know about her is that she’s a witch, hence why I have the craft.”

I take a second to process the information. How could Ali’s mother leave her? And how did Ali even come to practice her witchcraft all on her own? I carefully word my question, “There weren’t other witches in the Serpents?”

She shakes her head with a frown. “The only way I knew what I was doing was through books I found at run-down shops on the Southside. I didn’t really interact with many other witches until long after I left this place. More towards when I came across you and your Aunts.” The last statement makes my mood lift. I still vividly remember the day I met Ali years ago. Even from the beginning of our relationship, she was always so pleasant with me. So kind. And she was hiding the pain of her past here in Riverdale all with a smile. It makes me wonder how long she had been on her own before Aunties and I entered her life. I wonder if Jughead’s dad knew where she disappeared off to…...or if Mister Lodge knew……

“What about Mister Lodge? Did you know about his magic?” I throw out, instantly regretting it but it’s too late now. Ali stares at me with her mouth open and her eyes startled. She blinks, then her mouth closes. She glances away at the wall and takes another inhale.

“Found out for the first time two nights ago.” she replies all monotone, grabbing her mug for another sip. “I only know about his magic just as much as you know about Veronica’s.” She doesn’t look at me for a while, she just continues to stare off in the distance. I’m worried that somehow I’ve upset her by bringing V and Mister Lodge up so much. But I haven’t interacted much with Jughead’s parents to ask otherwise, and out of the people I’ve met in Riverdale, I have a stronger connection with V.

Ali slowly returns her eyes to meet mine and reaches for my hand. She gives me a sad smile, “But I’m happy that you and Veronica can help each other with your magic. You’re already twenty steps ahead of where I ended up at your age. I’m only a little envious.” She ends her comment with a playful wink to lighten the mood. I’m relieved that we can have the time for her to open up to me about this, and for her to reminisce with some positivity. I let go of my own cup and hold onto Ali with both hands.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that all by yourself.” I do mean it - I’ve been lucky that I have Aunties and Ambrose to guide me, and I have Ali too. But Ali growing up without any guidance, or a friend like V, or Salem….. “Was that the reason you left, Ali? Were you trying to find other witches outside of Riverdale?”

She stays unresponsive for a minute. Her silent state is one that I haven’t seen with her before, and it scares me a little bit. There must have been someone she knew back then, someone who could help her transition from Riverdale to Greendale. Otherwise…. I beg another question, “Were you running away from something?”

Ali shuts her eyes, squeezing onto my hands tighter. I’m regretting having this conversation, not because I’m petrified of my own actions, but because I’m petrified that Ali has to relive painful periods of her life. My questioning could be causing her more harm than I anticipated.

I go to speak, to apologize for the constant pestering, when she answers. “Yes. I ran from a lot of things, Sabrina. I ran from…….my life here. The people I interacted with all over town…....” she pauses, opening her eyes and leaning back in her seat. Her grip on my hands eases. She purses her lips before continuing, “I ran from myself. I hated my life, Sabrina. I didn’t want to be a half-Serpent, half-witch. I didn’t even want to be a Serpent. I was on my own for a majority of the time….if I wasn’t with Jughead’s father or anyone else in the gang. Other than that, I didn’t have the support you have now. Everything I learned about magic came from my own research. Even then, I was miserable. And vulnerable. And…….I made the biggest mistake of my life.”

My heart races at the end of her explanation. I have so many questions but my mouth won’t move. What mistake? What did Ali do? She readjusts the hold on my hands and leans in. She takes a deep breath, then looks me straight in the eye.

“You’re a smart girl, Sabrina. And you have more of an emotional backbone than I did at your age. Don’t let anyone else take that away from you, and don’t let them get to your head. You want to know why I ran? I didn’t have that advice.”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It’s been roughly 24 hours since Hiram left the trailer park with his daughter back in his care. 24 hours, and I still don’t know if I have the time, or the courage, to ring him up and ask for his help. If he knew what was at stake by confronting me at Pop’s that night and still doing it anyway, why shouldn’t I be able to do the same?

At least I had somewhat of a chance to open up to Sabrina about my past. I wasn’t able to disclose everything, specifically about Hal himself, or even that house; the topic became too much after a while. But I could get my point across about developing emotional strength and finding some support. She seemed to take it well, which brings me some relief. After that instance, she disappeared into the bedroom for a while along with that cat, so I spent most of yesterday drafting out what to do about Hiram.

Work is slow this morning at the diner. So far, only families with smaller children and older folks have come for a meal, not many teenagers. Normally, I would be gone by now after making the daily pies, but something keeps me here at work. I keep staring at the phone at Pop’s like I’m expecting some call….for no reason. Some part of me must think that I can try to use it when the rush dies down so I can get in contact with Hiram…..but I think I’m just stretching things out beyond proportion.

I get the chance to eat during a dull point of service. I could have kept going and gone the whole morning without breakfast, but Gladys makes me sit down so I can eat something. She covers my tables while I impatiently look at the phone, stabbing my eggs with a fork. I haven’t had coffee at all, but I’m so jittery. Am I expecting someone to call at all? Maybe not Hiram, or Keller even…..Hal? Did he know how to use a phone? Does he know where I am? That I work here?

My thoughts get put on hold when Gladys joins me at the bartop with her own plate of breakfast. “You hanging in there, witch?” she mutters, biting into a piece of bacon. She notices me staring at the phone, which happens to be next to the coffee pot, and smirks. “You want me to convince Pop to let us finish out the last of that pot?” I manage to look at her, and with a smile, I shake my head.

“I think my heart would fly out of my chest if I drink any caffeine today.” I tease. I finally decide to take a forkful of food and shove it into my mouth. The eggs taste watery and the corned beef hash is crusty and lukewarm, but it’s better than not eating anything.

“You handle Lodge alright on your own?” she inquires me in a low voice. “I meant to ask about that yesterday.” I finish swallowing the lump of food before I answer.

“We kept it brief. He got his daughter and left. No fuss.” Gladys rotates in her stool so her back leans against the counter, elbows on the bartop. She glances out the window, looking out at the foggy, grey world.

“Surprised he didn’t bring any of his capos along. Probably would have if he were dealing with anyone else on the Southside, including me or FP.” I mimic her motion and allow myself to relax against the countertop. I turn my head to the side to face her. She continues, “You got any weird, magical gut feelings? That him being so soft around you strikes you odd?”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “Trust me, I’ve been trying to figure that out since I arrived.” Her eyes light up, and we both start laughing. She drops her head onto my shoulder in attempt to suppress a snort. It’s nice to let my guard down for once. I spent too many years of my life not connecting with people, and not allowing myself to breathe and hang loose. Opening up to Sabrina tears down some of that wall I built. Hanging out with Gladys provides a sense of relief for me. Maybe this trip to Riverdale is what I needed to heal.

We’re both so caught up in our delirium that we don’t notice Pop coming out of the kitchen. He coughs, catching our attention, and he gives us a stern nod. He wants us to get back to work in the nicest way possible. I follow my gaze to the jukebox, still high on my good mood. “Come on, let’s get some good work music going.” I grab Gladys’s hand and we head over to the jukebox. I browse through the collection of music, searching for something upbeat. My eyes land on Yvonne Elliman. Gladys shoves a quarter into the jukebox and I press on the selection. The vibrant disco music fills the silence in the diner. I’m fully aware that the music out of this time period screams cheezy, but it radiates so much positive energy. It lifts my spirits every time I throw on his type of music in the bakery, or even when I’m by myself back in my little apartment above my shop. It reminds me of simpler, happier days.

I take Gladys by the hand and we make our way around the diner, grooving to Yvonne’s lyrics.

_Don't know why_

_I'm survivin' ev'ry lonely day_

_When there's got to be no chance for me_

_My life would end_

We’re both laughing and jamming to the song without any real sense of coordination. My mind no longer focuses so heavily on my strategization to convince Hiram to help me, nor on Hal. For once during my return to Riverdale, the weight of my trauma glides off my shoulders. I still have a strong relationship with Sabrina. I have a real friend. I’m slowly making amends with former classmates. And I can reintegrate myself into society. I can finally say I’m in euphoria.

_Am I strong enough to see it through_

_Go crazy is what I will do_

I don’t hear the phone ring over the music or my state of happiness. I don’t even hear Pop on the other side of the diner go to answer the call. It’s only after Gladys and I take a second to catch our breaths from the bad dancing and ongoing laughter that Pop holds my attention.

“Miss Beauchamp, Mr. Lodge is on the other end. He wants to speak to you.”

The high I experienced starts to fade. My internal thoughts kick back in. What does Hiram want this early in the morning? From me of all people? I’m frozen until Gladys nudges me, gesturing her head to where Pop stands. I let go of Gladys and hustle over to where Pop waits for me. He hands me the phone and walks away. I scan the diner for any eavesdroppers - I can’t risk any mortal overhearing this conversation.

“Pop’s Chock’Lit Shop. This is Wendy.” I speak into the phone, maintaining my new identity. The other end is dead silent. Did Hiram leave the conversation without hanging up? Attempting to not let my anger rise, I inhale sharply. I start again, “Pop’s Choc---”

“I heard you the first time, Acid Queen Alice. You don’t have to use your cover around me.” Hiram replies, I can hear him smirking. I wish I could reach through to the other end and strangle him. Then I have to remind myself that, whether I care for him or not, he’s the only one who can help me with finding Hal….maybe even with Sabrina’s trial if he’ll budge.

I bless under my breath before re-engaging with him. “You better have a good reason for calling me in the middle of work. Unless you have any news regarding….our mutual acquaintance,” I have to carefully state out loud. Innocently mentioning Sabrina or her problems back in Greendale could open up a can of worms I don’t have time to clean up.

“I actually do have a meeting regarding that manner in a few minutes, in case you were curious.” he defends himself rather quickly. I roll my eyes, losing patience with him. He goes on, “So while I have the time, I wanted to know when you would like to have those mugs returned to you.” Whatever feelings I just generated cease at the request. He still has the mugs I put the cider in yesterday. I almost forgot I gifted the Lodges with a warm beverage to go.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” I become sheepish, turning my back to the front of the diner. I lean against the phone booth, holding the phone closer to my ear. My thoughts wonder - would now be a good time to ask? When will I have another opportunity? Is Gladys right about him? Why_ is_ Hiram acting so damn soft around me?

“I can have my daughter bring them to Sabrina if that’s easiest.” I remain silent. Sabrina asked me this morning if she could spend the night with Veronica. She claimed that she wanted to check in on her new friend, saying something about a girls’ night in at Pembrooke. She also mentioned something about taking Salem along with her, which I’m fine with. I still don’t know what to make about that cat. I’m tempted to ask if Hiram might be aware of this last-minute decision, but time is of the essence here and I do have to get back to waiting tables. Yet my head is still screaming to ask for his help.

“Okay.” I keep my answer short. An awkward silence fills the gap of our conversation. I’m not sure if he’s waiting for me to speak, or if he lost the will to speak himself. _What are you waiting for, Alice?_ my inner voice begs. _Just ask him. He’s the only one in this town who can do what you do. He would have the resources, the tools; he’s your one chance to stop Hal. What’s taking you so long?_

“If you don’t have anything else, I’ll leave you be. Have a good day, Alice---”

“Hiram, wait!” I yell. The boom of my voice pierces the space of the diner, echoing throughout. Everyone in the diner, including Pop and Gladys, stare at me. I’m embarrassed out of my mind, but at this point, it’s now or never.

I lean further into the booth, exhaling. In a low register, I speak into the phone, “You said you’d offer me assistance if I ever came to need it. Right?”

I hear him lean back into something. Is he in his office right now? I can hear the shock when he returns, “Why, has something come up?” My heart could fly out. The knots in my stomach feel like butterflies. The phone cord curls in between my fingers. _Come on, Alice, spit it out._

“More like someone has returned. Meaning bad news.” Referring to Hal alone makes me want to lurch, but I have to stay strong. I need to for Sabrina, for Veronica, and maybe for myself. Seconds go by, and Hiram says nothing. His silence puts me on edge. Does he no longer wish to offer his services? Does he even know that I’m talking about Hal?

“Look,” I start to ramble out of pure anxiety, “this actually is kinda urgent because it not only involves me. It involves Sabrina. And your daughter. You too, if you want to extend it…..” I start to stutter on words, blessing once more away from the phone. I manage to form a cohesive sentence to end my plea, “I don’t have time to explain all of this now, but this thing…..I can’t sit on this anymore and let everything go to hell. I need help.” The other end remains muted. I force myself to take a long, deep breath. Admitting that I can’t take on Hal alone wasn’t the hard part. Admitting that I can’t take him on alone and that I need Hiram to help me scares me more. My need to resort to someone, who I never got along with in high school, who invited me to that party in the first place, who became my first target….. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Hiram tried to reach out to me 25 years ago, and now I need to reach out to him.

I expect a sneer from him. I anticipate him to laugh in my ear and tell me to take the high road. Figure it out on my own. But I don’t get any notion of cruelty. Nor do I get even one noise. Instead I get, “Meet me tonight at Lenny’s - I’ll make a reservation for us at 8. Does that work?” My heartbeat slows. My brain is numb. I don’t think I ever stepped foot into Lenny’s - I never had enough money to go into our town’s most expensive restaurant. Yet again, I didn’t need Hiram’s help until recently.

“That’s fine.” I mutter into the phone, still trying to process this point of our conversation.

“We’ll talk more tonight. See you then.”

The call ends. I place the phone back in its spot and stay frozen. I’m unable to move. The arrangement that we agreed on takes some time for it to hit me. It’s actually happening. I’m meeting with Hiram. Tonight. At Lenny’s. The reality of the situation hits hard. My eyes bulge and my knees turn to jelly.

“Oh no.” I turn away from the phone booth, latching onto the bartop for support. I continue to mutter to myself, “Oh no….no no no no no.” Gladys sees me, her brow raising. When I manage to stand up without support, and without the crowd in the diner watching my nervous breakdown, I frantically point to the bathroom. My heartbeat picks up, the knots in my stomach churning. She gets the hint, and we both hurry into the bathroom. I pace between the sinks and run my fingers through my hair, still muttering while Gladys locks the door. She’s about to ask what happened when I face her in panic.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST GET MYSELF INTO?” I whisper, which comes off more as a hiss. My hands start to shake, I feel like I’m swallowing hot wax. I might have just made a big mistake. Who am I trust Hiram Lodge at this hour? But what other choice do I have? I start to ramble, “I made a mistake. I can’t go to dinner with him. I don’t why I’m asking for his help in the first place.”

“You’re meeting with him for….I’m confused. For what now?” I glance over her shoulder towards the door. I know she locked it, but still the paranoia shakes me. I return to meet her eyes and place my hands on her shoulders, huffing. Both of my brows lift, hoping she gets the hint. Part of me wishes I had a spell so I can transmit into her head what I’m poking at. But no magic is required - her eyes widen. “Oh…….. Oh shit, that thing?” I nod my head at a turtle’s pace, releasing my hands from her shoulders. I walk into one of the stalls and allow myself to melt to the floor, fingers in my hair, elbows on my knees.

“When does he want to meet? And where?”

“8. At Lenny’s downtown.” I mutter, providing her the details. My fingernails tap up and down on my skull. My gaze is to the tiles on the bathroom floor. The colorization of the tiles makes me dizzy, so I have to squeeze my eyes shut. I’m acting like a four year old - what is wrong with me? _Daisies and candles_, I tell myself, _daisies and candles_.

“At this point, just go.” She states, point blank. “See if it’s worth the time.” My fingers release from my hair. My eyes snap open as I tilt my head up to her. I stare at her, still silent, and I rise up from the floor. My hand rests against the stall, my mouth hanging.

“Are you high on fumes? I can’t!” I practically screech. The door jingles from the end of the bathroom. We both turn our heads at the noise. Whoever is outside attempts to fumble with the door again. Gladys calls out that the bathroom’s occupied until further notice. I wait until the stranger leaves before I proceed in a harsh whisper, “I never got along with this man. I was nothing but a drug dealer to him in high school. And now he wants to give a crap and make me think I need to rely on him?” I back away a little, my uniform sticking to my skin, even though it’s not hot. I speak in between breaths, fanning out my uniform, “I have to back out, I gotta call him back and cancel this. Maybe I should just ghost him….or whatever the kids call it. Hey, is it getting hot in here or is just me---”

“Alice,” Gladys takes a hold of me by the shoulders, looking me in the eye. She speaks calmly, “look at me. Deep breaths, okay?” I do as I’m told. Daisies and candles. The dizziness starts to go away. My skin cools down. The rapid beating of my heart stagnates. Once I calm down, she says, “If you haven’t decided to back out yet, maybe I can help craft your argument for tonight. Highlight the points that can convince him to aid you.” The inner voice, the teenage version of me, formulates excuses in my brain so I can skip this meeting. I’m caught listening to Teen Alice (my head makes some good points) that I faze out. Gladys picks up on this and squeezes my shoulder. “At least let me help you pick out your outfit.”

I sigh. There really is no backing out now. At one last attempt, I say the first excuse that pops into my head, “I don’t have anything good in my closet. Well….nothing that suit the dress code for a place like Lenny’s.” Gladys doesn’t fall for this. She tilts her head one way glaring down, then straightens, looking back up at me with confidence. I think I can tell what she’s trying to get at, but I let her say it out loud anyway.

“I never said we were only gonna browse through your hippie garb, witch. I’ll admit, a lot of what I label “fancy outfits” is mostly snakeskin and kinda sheer, but it should work. Now, what size dress are you?”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

The walk to Pembrooke from the town library is quicker this time, partially because I’m getting better at my Riverdale geography. I observe the environment around me, my backpack slung over my shoulders, my overnight bag in my hands, and Salem prancing alongside me. It’s a little after 6:30, but the sun is already starting to set, pinks and oranges blending into the fading blue sky. Leaves crumble on the sidewalk, blowing past some of the shops closing for the night. The town starts to transition to prepare the nightlife. And I’m about to engage in it.

I head up the steps of Pembrooke and enter the lobby. I text Ali to let her know that I made it safely, then I let V know I’m here. We agreed to meet at least an hour or two early so we can set up our alibi - V and I would have a sleepover, and we’re watching movies and catching up on homework in her room. Our plan is to leave here around 8:30 to head over to Chuck Clayton’s house. V will get talking with him while I go through his house…..from their we make him confess his wrongdoings. There are some details we have to work through, hence why we’re meeting earlier…..but it also allows me some time to look more into this Riverdale Reaper.

I pull out a book I borrowed from the library. It’s another book about Riverdale history, but it can provide a better insight of what Jughead and I need to write the article. I flip through the lengthier chapters, narrowing down my search. I stop on a chapter talking about the late 1960s, which is when the murders happened, and…… Something strikes out to me about this book. There actually is information regarding the Reaper massacres. Nothing’s stated about the Conway family or their unfortunate fate so far, yet the book discusses how the town reacted during this frightening time. Apparently people fled the town long before the Reaper went after the Conways, as a result of a series of “witch hunts”. A group of high elite family names banded together to seek out anyone that could be responsible for the murders. A photo of this group takes up half a page in black and white. Something else stands out to me - this group is mostly all-male, except for one woman, with one stripe of some color in her white hair.

Footsteps coming in my direction breaks my attention on the book. I lift up to find V walking towards me, decked out in an all-black bodysuit and jeans. She’s not wearing her pearls. “I didn’t keep you waiting too long, did I?”

I shut my book and shove it back into my bag. “I just got here.” I rise up from where I’m sitting, slinging my backpack over my shoulders again, while Salem perks up at the sight of his new friend. He trots over to V and nuzzles his head into her leg.

“Anything that needs to be done about your father?” he purrs. V rolls her eyes and scoops him into her arms.

“Not yet, _pequeño duende_. Though, it wouldn’t hurt just to have you on stand-by.” she teases as she plants a kiss on top of his head. No one’s at the front desk currently, but V still has me follow her up the back steps to her residence. Her living room is still immaculate and clean as it was the day I first saw Pembrooke. If I can take a day or two to study every detail, I would. But we waste no time and head straight into V’s bedroom. She releases Salem to the ground and shuts her door as I walk in. Her laptop sits open and lit up on her bed. “While we have time,” V moves around me and flops onto her bed, grabbing for her computer, “I found something that could fuel more fire in our plan. Well…..Archie and Reggie found this while at practice and sent it to me.”

“Something about Chuck?”

She sighs, turning her laptop screen to face me. “Not entirely.” I come closer to the screen, lowering my knees to the floor so I can have a better look. There’s screenshots of a journal log….with girls’ names listed. And a comment and score. Some of the names I recognize from cheerleading, like Ginger Lopez and Tina Patel. Other girls I don’t recognize - Ethel Muggs, Melody Valentine, the list goes on.

“We were right, ‘Brina. I’m not the only girl at Riverdale High that dealt with Chuck. From what Archie and Reggie could get without being caught, Chuck keeps a scorebook to….I don’t know, make a name for himself. Assert power. Either way, this list proves that he shows no respect for anyone he…..did anything to.” I’m speechless. So there were other girls involved…..

Salem snickers in disapproval, “That gives more of a reason now to execute this revenge. He’ll just keep pawing his hands on anything that moves…..unless you two put an end to this. And anyone else you want to play a part.” I start to think about the others. I’ve only held brief conversations with Ginger and Tina, and they never brought this matter up. I wish I knew what the others looked like so I can determine if they were waving warning flags. If I knew what the others looked like……

“Can I see photos of the rest of the girls on the list?” I ask out of the blue. V torts her head in confusion. I rise from my knees and sit down on the bed next to her, handing back the laptop. “I might have an idea on how we make Chuck confess - but I might need to get some visuals to help me out. Do…..do you kind of understand what I’m saying?” V ponders for a second or two, then she catches on. She smiles and sits up straight, pulling the laptop onto her thighs.

“I think you just read my mind, Sabrina Spellman. I just happened to do a little Facebook stalking before you showed up. Get an idea of who we need to help protect and stand up for.” I peer over her shoulder as she goes through the list, finding their profiles all over social media. It’s a variety of the popular and well-known, timid and would rather spend their weekends in the library. But it’s enough information for V and I…..and Salem…...to finalize our game plan.

We finish our investigation and strategizing in 20 minutes. Since we are technically having a sleepover-slash-“girls night in”, we decide to watch a quick movie before we head over to Chuck’s. V scrolls through the options on both the family Hulu and Netflix accounts, narrowing down our viewing options. V’s shocked when I tell her I don’t recognize half of the titles. I explain that Aunties don’t care for me to watch mainstream cinema…..or mainstream anything. The only movies I get the chance to watch come out around Halloween at the Greendale movie theater, and they’re all from the 70s and 80s. V jokingly vows that before I head back to Greendale, we’re going to get through all the cult classics and pop culture superhero movies, “Even if we have to skip school or take up all of Thanksgiving Break.” she says. I laugh, and so does she. It’s nice to finally experience a normal teenage life for the first time without any restrictions or hold backs. It’s nice to experience with someone who gets it.

We eventually select to watch _Heathers_, some late 1980s black comedy with Winona Ryder. On the surface, it’s a teen comedy dealing with high school cliques, but it’s actually pretty dark. Winona’s boyfriend wants to kill everyone and frame it as suicide. It is a good movie, though. V’s seen it a few times now, but she doesn’t mind rewatching over again.

“Were you named after the main character?” I ask her during one of the slower parts.

“Not sure. Apparently, my mom picked out my name, but I don’t know if she got influenced by this movie.”

“It’s a nice name.” Salem comments from his place on her vanity. “Also seems kinda fitting to prepare for your retribution with _Heathers_. Considering the topic….” I roll my eyes and glare at my familiar.

“Thanks for that input, Salem.” I compliment him in full sarcasm. V and I both break out into laughter. We almost don’t hear a knock on V’s door. The noise causes Salem to growl and hop down from the vanity. V jolts up for a second, then relaxes. She pauses the movie to call out to whoever is on the other side as Salem joins us on the bed.

“Door’s open!” We both stay on the bed as the bedroom door creaks open wide. Mister Lodge stands at the door frame, adjusting the links on his cuffs. He’s all dressed up with an ascot around his neck, but for what reason? “Let me guess - movie too loud?” V sasses her father. He fixes the cuff before turning his attention to her.

“You’re fine, _mija_. I actually came to….” he stops, seeing me next to his daughter. “Sabrina, hello! I didn’t hear you come in! I better include you in this as well.” Mister Lodge steps into the bedroom to address both of us equally. “I’m going to be out for a couple of hours, so if you ladies need anything, Andre will be available. As will the staff downstairs.”

“That’s why you look like you’re going to a gala?” V comments, gesturing to his suit.

“As a matter of a fact, I’m having dinner with…..someone to discuss…..an arrangement.” His words come out methodical. Is this anything related to the Church of Night? Or even my trial? Did Auntie Z ever mention leaving the house for the night to conduct a business meeting in years past?

“I thought you didn’t have business meetings on Monday nights. Especially this late.”

He takes a deep breath, briefly glancing over at me. Something tells me that maybe Mister Lodge is meeting with someone to talk about me. But who? Auntie Z? Another Church of Night member? ALI? “Well, I do make exceptions every once in a while.” he explains to us. V and I exchange a look of scepticism. I still wonder who Mister Lodge would desire to share a meal with this late at night. He looks down at his watch and lowers his wrist. He starts to leave the bedroom, “I better be on my way. Will you two be alright here by yourselves?”

“We’re fine, Daddy.” V groans, impatiently waiting for her father to make his exit. He smirks and salutes us.

“Enjoy your night.” He’s about to shut the door when Salem lets out an angry meow. Mister Lodge directs his attention to my familiar, still holding his smirk. “_Y buenas noches a ti_, Salem.” He gives us one last wave, then shuts the door behind him. We wait until we hear the front door outside shuts, leaving us in Pembrooke alone, before V speaks.

“Guess that means we don’t have to sneak around my father tonight.” she exclaims with a grin. I can’t respond or pay attention to her turning back on the movie. My mind is stuck on the thought of Mister Lodge potentially meeting someone from Greendale, or even Ali. What if Auntie Z or Hilda is in Riverdale? Wouldn’t have they contacted me otherwise? Now that I have my mind set on this matter, why haven’t I heard from Aunties, or Ambrose? Or Harvey, or Roz, or Suzie, or anyone else from my life back at home? Don’t they care about what’s going on here in Riverdale? Don’t they care about me?

“‘Brina?” V stops the movie and places a hand on my back. I don’t realize that I’m physically showing my fear until I feel a tear stream down my cheek. Salem curls into me, resting his front legs across my forearm. I quickly wipe away the tear, letting out an unsteady exhale.

“Just thinking about my family, that’s all.” I mutter. I take a pillow from behind me and hug it into my stomach. Butterflies, or something knotty, swirl within me. With everything going on in Riverdale, I distract myself so much from the thought of home. I haven’t thought about it since my talk with Archie just days ago. The thought of everyone in Greendale weighs down heavier now. I miss Aunties and Ambrose. I miss Harvey. I miss Roz and Suzie.

“Has anyone from your family reached out to see how you’re holding up?” V whispers. I struggle to stop crying, but eventually, I give up, shaking my head. Salem nudges his head against me. V makes circles on my back to soothe me. It’s embarrassing - I’m supposed to be here to help V with her problems, yet we’ve shifted gears to focus more on mine. I don’t hate Riverdale, I love the environment and my new friends. I hate that I had to leave everything I knew behind, even if it’s just temporary. I hate that I feel like I’m making Ali relive her trauma and making her depressed. I hate that I put my family at stake with the Church of Night. I’m letting Aunties down. I’m letting my father down….. My father…..

Then I remember - Dad’s amulet. I straighten my back, setting the pillow next to me. I rise up and leave the bed so I can reach for my backpack. I shoved the amulet into my bag when I was cleaning up the bedroom for Ali to use tonight. I dig around my bad, shoving aside the library books, zipping through my pockets, until my fingers rest upon the chain. I grab on and pull the amulet out of my bag, smiling. I stand back up, letting the amulet dangle in my hands, to show V and Salem.

“A family heirloom?” Salem rises in interest. “How did you manage to snag that little charm?”

“I didn’t snag it - Ambrose, my cousin, gave it to me before I left.” I explain, putting the amulet on before resting back down on the bed. V reaches for the charm, running her fingers on the edges. I continue, “If it’s a necessity to call back home, I can just use a summoning spell.” My thoughts float back to when Ambrose first showed me this thing the night Ali and I left for Riverdale. How come I never knew about it before then? Why did Dad leave it behind?

“It’s beautiful.” V comments. My mood lifts slightly, but I’m still in a funk. I give V a sad smile.

“It’s what I have left of my dad, for the most part. And maybe my mom too.” I tell them, then pause. I’m not sure if Mister Lodge told V about the fate of my parents, or why I live with my aunts. I don’t think I’ve told Salem yet either. We’ve focused so much on current events that I haven’t made any real attempt thus far to educate my new friend, and my familiar, on my family history. But it will have to wait for another time. I take the charm into my hands and finish my statement, “I never even met them, and yet I miss them. Funny how the world works.”

“It is a cruel world, indeed, Sabrina.” Salem states, coming off more as a hiss. “A sad, cruel world. But you’re lucky that I’m here. And so is Miss Lodge. We can act as your family if your aunts and cousin forget all about you.” I can feel my smile slowly fade, not out of cruelty but out of confusion. I guess it would be nice…..if the trial doesn’t go as plan or I get excommunicated or banned from Greendale, I could start over here and stay with V and her father. And I can keep Salem around. It does sound wonderful….. But what about Aunt Ali? Isn’t she my family too? I still don’t understand what it is about Ali that makes Salem hold such a negative opinion of her….

I quickly reform a smile for Salem before returning to V. I change the subject of the conversation, “What time did Chuck want to meet with us again?”

“Somewhere 8:30 or 9. You wanna finish up the movie?” Relieved, I nod. I retake my place next to V so we can start up _Heathers_ again.

Around 8:10, we pack up our supplies and head out of the residence, using the steps as we did before. We slip into the lobby without a sound, heading for the back set of doors, leading out into the streets of downtown Riverdale. We head towards the parking garage at the end of the corner of the street. I’m tempted to pull out the light on my phone, or use some magic to light the way, but V makes sure to guide me through the dark. Salem keeps a good pace next to us, carefully noting each step we take. Eventually, we stop at a bright, red car. V reveals a set of keys to unlock the vehicle, and she gestures for me to get in. I’m impressed - when did she learn how to drive, especially since her family has chauffeurs and she grew up in New York? Instead of asking questions, I just climb into the vehicle, taking Salem with me. V brings the car to life, backing out of the parking space, and roaring out of the garage.

It takes a minute or two for the three of us to make our way through town before V chimes in, “You nervous, ‘Brina?” I hold onto Salem as she takes a sharp turn.

“A little bit. You?”

“I’ve got jitters.” she laughs. “But we’ll be ready. Chuck will have his comeuppance.” Salem chirps in excitement.

“That’s the spirit!” His voice is devilish, as if he was waiting for a moment like this to happen since being left alone in that house. But nothing to worry about for now. V giggles, and I do as well to some extent. A few more miles down the road, and more sharp turns later, we stop at the end of a street. V turns off the engine and the lights, turning to me.

“Chuck’s house is up down there.” she tilts her head back to the other side of the street. It doesn’t make sense - why would we need to park on the opposite side of the….. Oh. I get it now.

“So no one will see us coming from down here?” I throw out. She nods in approval, getting out of the car. I hop out myself, releasing Salem onto the sidewalk. I join V by her trunk, and…..she’s shaking. I can see her breath materialize in the cold air, all broken up and unsteady. She looks just as nervous as she appeared when we explored the Conway House. Is she getting cold feet?

I take her hand, her fingers are like ice. “You sure you still want to go through with this, V?” She releases another breath as she glances around this dark street. It takes her a while before she turns back to me, her lip quivering. “I’m right with you, okay?”

Her lips curl up the slightest when she squeezes my hand. “Showtime.” she whispers. I call for Salem to join us, and we make our way down the street. V still clutches onto my hand like we’re going through a “haunted” corn maze anticipating someone in a mask to pop out at us. She’s scared but she won’t own up to it. I’m amazed that she still wants to follow through. And I admit, I’m shocked that I haven’t back out. When I went to get back at those football boys with the Weird Sisters, I felt much more confident and sure. I had a steady plan. The stakes here are no different, but for some reason, I have a feeling something might go wrong…..

We come to a house towards the other end of the street. Its white and grey outer skin illuminates in the darkness. This must be Chuck Clayton’s home. I wonder what will wait for us on the inside, what could work with the plan…. V lets go of my hand before she heads up the entryway. Salem prances over and stops at my ankles. I pick him up and cradle him.

“Well, here goes nothing.” I mutter and follow V to the front door. I wait behind her, still holding onto Salem, as she rings the bell. No one comes to the door at first. I glance around more of the outside of the house. I spot a car sitting outside the family’s garage? Does that car belong to him, or his parents? Will his parents be here too?

My thoughts come to a halt when the front door opens. A boy around our age towers over us from the other side. I’ve seen this boy at school, but it never occured to me that THIS was Chuck. I’ve seen him walking down the hallways, smiling at me and others as he passes. Now that I can put a name to his face, the sight of him makes me sick. 

“Ronnie,” Chuck smirks down at V. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Hello, Chuck.” she swoons, I forget she’s putting on a facade. Salem squawks in my arms, catching Chuck’s attention. The smirk drops when he sets his eye on me. V waves at me to come forward, “Don’t worry, she’s with me. Showing her around.” I adjust my hold on Salem to wave hello. He becomes less concerned the more he looks at me.

“Oh right. The new girl.” he reforms his smirk. I’m relieved that I don’t have to create an impromptu back-up plan to sneak into the house if he didn’t approve of me being here. But so far, he shows no disapproval. Maybe this will work after all.

Chuck opens the door wider. “You gonna come in or what, ladies?”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It takes a while for the heat to kick on in my convertible. It’s not super cold out, but the sheer fabric of this dress….romper thing on me doesn’t do much to keep me warm. Out of all the outfits Gladys had me try on, I felt more comfortable in this red snakeskin one. It shows more skin than I thought - the V neck of this thing goes down to my belly button. But Gladys found some gold jewelry and a belt to pair it with, so I do feel more comfortable with that. It feels weird, though, that I’m borrowing clothes from FP’s wife. I’m even wearing Roman-style heels that go up to my calf, and they’re hers. Perhaps I’m still getting used to having a real female friend and being able to share stories with others, as well as swap wardrobes.

It’s a few minutes to 8, so I need to get a move on, with my AC blasting heat or not. I don’t want to leave Hiram waiting for me or thinking that I abandoned our arrangement. I pull out of Sunnyside Trailers and head for Lenny’s downtown. Normally, I would drive in silence, or at least let my mind wander a little. But I keep thinking about how empty the trailer felt this afternoon without Sabrina or her cat while I finished getting ready. I keep thinking about everything in this town. I need to distract myself before I drop this bomb on Hiram tonight. I flip through the channels on the radio, switching between the newest pop songs, some country, rap. Eventually I stop on a classic rock channel and hear the end of a Rolling Stones song. The channel host makes a bit of commentary as a new song starts up. The familiar opening cords under the dialogue sound familiar. My eyes dart to the radio slightly, the music progressing. I recognize the song almost instantly from the singing.

_The full moon is calling, the fever is high_

_And the wicked wind whispers and moans_

_You got your demons, you got your desires_

_Well, I got a few of my own_

I lean my head back and force myself to breathe. Of course, I landed on a song that brings me back more memories of Hal. And how fitting that this song played right as…..right as Hal and I were on our way to confront Hiram.

_We made a deal to meet up at one of Marty Mantle’s parties a week or two after the Halloween Party. Hal crafted what I should say to Hiram and how to get ourselves into this party. Luckily, there was no struggle - Hiram made it a promise to get me in, and that was that. With our plan set in stone, I could have Hal enter the house without anyone suspecting to aid in my conquest._

_When the night arrived, I drove Hal and I to the other side of Riverdale. He hadn’t seen much of town, only the places I hung out after school and mostly on the Southside. It was his first time in the Northside, and he already seemed displeased. I didn’t blame him for looking so sour - as much as I envied a Northsider life, I hated how those kids treated me. But Hal had a good point when we talked earlier - I could do something to change it._

_I pulled up to a spot a few houses away. Hal strategized that if we needed an escape, we could park on the other side where no one would see us. The idea struck me odd at first, but I quickly realized he had a point. A lot of people were gathered outside Marty’s house. The chances of them making comments about my presence could spark some trouble. We snuck around the back side of the houses, heading towards the party. But I wasn’t planning to stay here for a long time, nor was I planning on making my presence known. We reached the house and peered at the scene through the trees._

_“So this is what a high school party looks like.” Hal snickered from behind me. From the sliding glass doors, I could see into the house - jocks playing a game of beer pong, girls dancing to music by the radio, the booksmart kids having a debate on the sofas. And yet, looming by the kitchen, leaning up against the doorframe by himself, was the only person I had my eyes set on that night._

_“Wait here. I’ll let you know when to get in.” I whispered as I headed for the scene of the party. Before emerging out of the woods, Hal grabbed my arm and came into my view._

_“They don’t deserve you.” he sounded so smooth, coming in closer to me. When I first interacted with him on Halloween night, I didn’t feel any immediate connection, or real attraction. Yet, the more we hung out and the more I opened up about myself, the more he showed his devotion….was I growing attracted to my familiar? A goblin disguised as a human boy? I had to drop my gaze to my feet, his eyes glared into mine with such desire. He placed his fingers under my chin and lifted my gaze up to meet his once more. His lips were dangerously close to mine. “Remember what you are, Alice.” _

_The words loomed in my head long after I left Hal in the woods, entering the land of the living. The music became louder the closer I came to the sliding glass doors. I paused for a second, examining my scene. I could hear the Eagles blaring on the stereo as a bunch of drunk Vixens swayed their bodies. Luckily, everyone in that living room was so intoxicated that it was easier than I thought to slip in without many people catching on. A couple of drunk classmates bumped into me but seemed to shrug it off, not staring at my face. Hiram still remained sulking in him spot. It was only a matter of time before Hiram did another room scan and set his eyes on me. I slowly made my way through the room to get over to him, the music getting louder in my ears._

** _I've been searching for the daughter of the devil himself_ **

** _I've been searching for an angel in white_ **

** _I've been waiting for a woman who's a little of both_ **

** _And I can feel her but she's nowhere in sight_ **

_“Well I’ll be damned.” Hiram muttered when I stopped in front of him. “You did make it after all. Did Marty let you in without a fuss?” I didn’t respond, I just shook my head. He stepped away from the wall and took a sip of his drink. “You really are a rebel, **serpentina**.” My light expression dimmed. I still was no fan of him calling me Acid Queen Alice, but serpentina bugged me just as much._

_“I’m afraid I don’t have any drugs for you or your pals to overdose on.” I rose my voice over the music and the laughter._

_“You are retired now, aren’t you?” Hiram wiped away some alcohol from his lips. I shrugged my shoulders at him, starting to look around. Marty’s house certainly stood inferior to the architecture of Thornhill. It was too cramped in there, too bright, too many hot bodies. “Unless you got some hiding in a car somewhere.” I knew he would pester on until I gave in. It was all part of the plan, yet I still rolled my eyes at him anyway. Had to keep up appearances somehow._

_“You’re funny, Lodge.” I snarked, taking a step closer into him. I crossed my eyes and held my stance. I pieced together how this would play out in my head. He would take one last sip of his drink and leave his place to throw his cup away. He’d continue to look at me as he leaned down on the kitchen counter, elbows on top of the marble. He’d give me that same soft look he had when he asked me to come to the Halloween Party. Realizing I wouldn’t budge, he’d wander back over to me. He’d glance down at the monochrome tile scheme before looking back up at me. This is when I would “start to give in”, if only he knew._

_“Maybe just one last request?” he looked so sincere, but I didn’t know for sure what to make of him back then. “After that, I promise I’ll ask for no more. Scout’s honor.” He saluted to me, and I swore I thought he’d smile. But he still had that soft, somber glow on him. He was right where I needed him. Time to make my next move._

_I huffed. “We’ll need to go back to my place on the Southside.” I hurried my sentence and scanned the party. No one was sober enough to be paying attention to us. I tilted more into him, “You think anyone will notice if you’re gone?”_

_"_ _I got in because of my name.” Hiram admitted in a neutral tone, “No one here to really hang out with unless I have money or party favors.” He gave me a wink at the last sentence, a smile formed. It made me want to hurl. I saw an opening for us in the back by the sliding glass doors to make our grand escape. With a grunt, I took Hiram’s hand and dragged him away._

_“We go back for my drugs, then you leave me alone. Got it?” I called out as I led the way._

_“Whatever you say, Acid Queen Alice!” he replied in excitement. We made it through the doors and back out towards the wooded area. We ran around to the front of the house next door, now clear of the party. I kept my hold of him firm as we made our way to my car. I looked up at the night sky, the stars shining bright, the moon in its third quarter at waning crescent. I directed my attention to the woods, the trees looming over the streets and houses. There, something was waited for its signal._

_I lifted my head high towards the woods. I spoke to the woods all in my head. **You better catch up**, my inner voice called out,** or you’ll miss out**._

_“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Hal replied back. Somewhere in the woods, he caught up to our trail as I drove Hiram to the trailer park._

I almost miss the turn going into Lenny’s. The memory of that night distracts me entirely. When I regain focus on the road, I notice that the radio station is now playing Dolly Parton. I sigh and turn it off as I enter the parking lot. It’s practically deserted tonight. The only cars here might belong to waitstaff or some straggler guests. Once I find a spot, I turn off the ignition and get out of the car. My bones shake as my feet hit the payment. I have to readjust the outfit and tug down the fabric under the belt a bit. Clutching onto my purse, I take a deep breath. I have to get Hiram to listen to me tonight. It’s now or never.

I make my way in to the restaurant. I can feel the warm air surrounding me when I enter. The place is mostly candle-lit, it’s like I walked onto the set of _The Godfather_. I can smell the bread from the kitchen, the candle wax on the tables. My senses tingle here.

I walk over to the host. He greets me warmly, which is nice for a change. I’m about to explain why I’m here when he interrupts me. “Miss Smith…..ah, yes. Mr. Lodge is towards the back.” I raise a brow at him. Hiram told this man…..this place about me? Another host waves for me to follow him before I can start asking any questions. I have to remind myself that I’m playing a game on no-man’s land here. This is Hiram’s playground, and I have to play nice and by the rules. Doesn’t mean I can’t bend the rules a little bit.

I’m led all the way to the back of the restaurant, passing table with only a handful of guests. The host leads me past the brick oven, the wine cabinets, everything is so decadent here. I continue my browsing when my gaze goes downward. In one table at the center of this section of the restaurant, Hiram twirls a liquor glass in his hand. He looks…..rather handsome, I will admit. He breaks his gaze at the sound of our footsteps. He smiles at the host before turning his attention fully at me. His mouth hangs slightly, his eyes become all doe like. He looks genuinely stunned at the sight of me.

“You waiter should be with you shortly.” the host tells me. I thank him, not breaking my sight on Hiram. The other man leaves, we’re alone now. We both maintain our silent gaze, refusing to back down. I have to take charge here. I lift my head and release my shoulders from my ears, my confidence gradually building. My heels click on the floor with each step. The tail of this outfit flows behind me. My poker face keeps it hold - I can’t show any emotion just yet. His mouth still hangs by the time I reach the table. I sink into my seat, resting my purse on the floor, crossing one leg over the other. I grab for one of the water glasses while still maintaining eye contact.

It’s me who breaks our prolonged silence. “You gonna keep that jaw on the floor all night, Lodge?” He closes his mouth instantly. One point for me. “Not the first time you’ve seen me in a dress.” I comment before taking a well-deserved sip of this water.

He smirks. “Thought you would have purged all your Serpent attire. Unless you kept some items for any reason you planned to come back.” I set down my glass, tapping my fingers on the outer shell. I don’t think I brought any clothes with me when I left Riverdale. I left everything I had behind - clothes, books, good and loyal friends….

“I didn’t.” I reply stone-cold. Our waiter comes and breaks our tension. He asks if I want more than just water. Normally, I’d resort to wine, spiced cider, or stick with water. But this isn’t the comfort of my place over my bakery, nor is it the Spellman’s house. I stare down at the drink in Hiram’s hand - whiskey? Scotch? Another witchy liquor I have yet to introduce into my drink assortments?

“I’ll take what he’s got.” The waiter leaves with my drink order. Hiram falls back into his seat, still in a daze over me. Two for me, zero for him. I’m not here to simply have drinks and flirt, and he picks up on it now.

He sits up straight and rests his forearms on the table. His smirk has yet to break. “You want to talk business, Acid Queen Alice? Alright. We’ll talk business. But it won’t be like arranging for jingle jangle or obtaining access into house parties. We’re not children anymore.”

“First thing in a while that I agree with you on.” I fire back. I don’t show it in my face, but a wave of nervousness hits me. It hits me that this confrontation is happening. It’s him and me, face-to-face, no magic or any familiars in plain sight to use as weapons. It’s all words. It could fall either way, with me getting his assistance, or me walking away empty-handed and Sabrina in danger. The uncertain probabilities chisel away at my pride.

I speak again, “Hopefully we agree on more things. If you actually have the decency to listen, or if you’re not busy planning blackmail material.”

I go to reach for my glass. He scoffs. “You’d think I’d blackmail you?” I lower the glass back down with a clank. My upper lip curls to reveal my teeth. I could laugh.

“Why else did you bring up Sabrina in Pop’s that night?” My face stays neutral but my voice displays a rising anger. My head drifts back to Pop’s just days ago. The moments of Hiram revealing his memory of me, my nose bleed, our talk about Sabrina’s fate. It still irks me to no end. “Yeah, I am looking after her on behalf of Hilda and Zelda Spellman, but I am in no way making an effort to sway her towards or against the Path of Night. And I don’t plan on it either…..” I trail off for a second. My thoughts circle back to the blackout. The psuedo pain ripping my brain and lungs apart, the fear of someone freeing Hal becoming a reality. “Not with the reason why we’re here now.” I croak. Hiram loses the smirk. His eyes show his concern. His stance eases.

“What’s going on, Alice?”

The waiter comes back with my drink. I take a long sip - it’s smooth going down, and it leaves a sickly sweet aftertaste. We place our meal orders with low, hurried voices. We wait for the waiter to disappear once more before we jump back into the discussion head-on.

“You remember that boy I hung out with?” I jog his memory. “Bright blonde hair, blue eyes….looked more innocent than he let on.” He sits there contemplating my words. Then it comes to him.

“Hal Cooper.” he mutters. He looks pissed. Hurt. Hiram looks me in the eye. “I take it he’s the reason you skipped town? Did he know about….your craft?” I don’t respond right away. I take a long slug of my drink. He loses the angry approach. “He was like us?”

“Goblin, to be exact…..or a demon.” I explain to him. “Yeah, that night I went to the Conway House, I summoned him, thinking he was going to be my familiar.” I cross my arms, anxiously beginning to dart my eyes around the room. “Turns out that was a mistake.” I mutter, hoping Hiram doesn’t hear me.

But he does. “That’s why you came back.” I can’t help but stare at him now. “You’re not just back in town to look after the young Spellman out of the kindness of your heart. You don’t want her to find the Conway House and to release…..that thing.” He’s putting the pieces together faster than I hoped. One point for him. I exhale, drumming my fingers on the table. My fingers curl into my palm. Time to drop the bomb.

“Yeah……that’s the problem. Hal’s out.” His eyes widen. His inhale comes in sharp. His lips form an unsteady line. Hiram retreats further into his seat. I proceed, “The night you came to Pop’s to confront me, someone went to the Conway House and undid my binding spell. I don’t know if it was Sabrina, or your daughter…..or any other witch that’s gone rogue, but…..he’s no longer in there. He’s back and out in the streets. It wouldn’t surprise me if any strange occurrences…..or deaths, start happening.” Hiram keeps his composure, but I can read the panic on his face. This whole ordeal scares me too. I’m amazed that I haven’t broken down yet at the mentionings of Hal. I only hope that Hiram can come through. That we can set whatever distances we have, and have had, aside to hunt Hal down. That we can just….do something to keep these girls safe. Maybe even keep the town safe too.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t feel guilty if something does happen. I brought him out once and he made me cause the death of people we knew. I don’t want it to happen again. Not to a witch like Sabrina, or your daughter.” My voice starts to waver. My lips crunch together for a moment, I feel my emotions slipping from little cracks. _Daisies and candles_, my brain tells me. I want to say more, but I can’t get the words out. My lips stay glued shut. My gaze grows distant, unfocused, hazy. Did Hal already find someone to prey on? Was I even making this whole thing up, and my mind played tricks on me that night? Am I losing my mind?

Something’s off about Hiram now. His gaze moves downward at his glass. He appears more melancholy. Was mentioning his daughter too much for him? I lean forward, intertwining my fingers. I have to be smart about these next few words. It could make or break this whole deal. “I know how protective you are about Veronica.” I say to him, speaking with sympathy. “I saw the way you acted around her the other morning. You have so much devotion and love for her, even if you don’t want to make it public. In a way, you’re honoring Hermione….” I pause. Even thinking about Hermione still makes my insides churn, not out of disgust but out of guilt. I look to see if he’s reacting to my name dropping of Hermione, but he seems unfazed by the notion. I exhale, partially in relief, and keep my words going, “You’re taking care of your own flesh and blood.”

His distant appearance breaks. Hiram blinks a couple of times, then he makes eye contact, struggling to find words. He huffs, then speaks, “Too bad she isn’t.”

I’m paralyzed. Baffled. Too bad she isn’t? What the hell does that mean? My mouth creaks open, I’m mentally preventing myself from letting it open all the way. How is Veronica not of his own blood? Did Hermione marry someone else before Hiram? Is he only her stepfather? An uncle? Grandparent? I’m running out of options that could explain this. There’s no other way Veronica can’t be a Lodge, unless she was….. I sit there motionless. Numb. I look Hiram in the eye. He bits his lip out of fear before he gives an answer.

“Alice, Veronica’s adopted.”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

It’s nice in Chuck Clayton’s house. The inside is primarily wood with some modern deco. It almost reminds me of the inside of Aunties’ house back in Greendale…. With permission, I release Salem to the floor so he can “wander around” while V and I follow Chuck to the living room. “You ladies want anything to drink?” he goes over to the bar cabinet full of liquor bottles. The sight makes me cringe. I’m not opposed to alcohol, it’s common for young witches to indulge in the liquid spirits to prepare for adulthood. But having this much in one house seems rather unsettling. V and I both decline the offer, which causes him to shrug. “Let me know if your mind changes.” His tone bothers me. Is this how he talks to everyone else at school? Around other girls?

V wanders over to the couch and melts. The living room overlooks the kitchen and the staircase leading to the second floor. Across the way, a wooden door leads out to the pool - I can see the moon reflecting on the water’s surface through the little window.

“So, how are you liking Riverdale, new girl?” Chuck questions me from the bar.

“It’s…..good so far!” I respond rather fast in attempt to avoid eye contact or awkward small talk. I start to worry about Salem’s whereabouts - he hasn’t come down since we arrived. Chuck adds the last touch to his drink then goes to join V on the couch. He’s about to sit down next to her, then notices me, then he decides to occupy the other end of the couch.

“Figure it must bother you that school got cancelled then it’ll be Thanksgiving Break, and you just got here.” Chuck keeps up with me. “You involved in anything so far?”

“She’s on the Vixens with me.” V enters the small talk. She rests her head into her palm and pulls her knees up to her shoulders. “She’s a quick learner, too. Picked up our Homecoming Game routine just days after joining.” Chuck seems impressed. I could run away. It wasn’t hard for me and the Weird Sisters to lure those football players into the mine and “kiss them”. Why can I barely stand in the same room with the man who hurt my new best friend? I grab for Dad’s amulet and run my fingers along the grooves. This motion eases some of my bubbling fear, but not all the way.

“Is that Midge Klump treating you well? Heard she grew to become a bit of a tyrant when she took over this past spring. Even more now that she’s dating Moose - you can’t rip away her title or her boy if you tried.” V releases her head from her palm, bringing it back straight.

“What’s got you so interested in Midge, Chuck?” He takes a second to formulate a response. He stares off towards the pool door. Would Midge become another target…..if something ever were to happen to her and Moose? Chuck sneers, turning back to V.

“How can anyone not?” he makes up an excuse. “She runs the Vixens, she dates a Bulldog. The Sheriff’s kid, Kevin, always talks about wanting to cast her as the lead in the upcoming musical. Everyone at school knows about her. You just can’t.” He stops, taking a long sip of his beverage. Part of me wishes it were poison instead. He sets his drink down on the coffee table and finishes his statement, “But to me, she’s just like every other girl at school.” My shoulders tense. V lowers her feet down to the floor, then she faces me. She raises a brow, signaling, _We need to get this done. Now._

“Sorry, do you mind if I go upstairs?” I start to back away from the living room area. “I just want to make sure that my cat isn’t messing with anything.”

“You want me to help?” V rises from the couch, moving as far away from Chuck as possible. I nod at her then turn to Chuck. I can see on his face that he knows something isn’t right.

In defeat, he waves his hand at us. “Fine with me. Haven’t heard any weird noises yet, so you’re cat’s…..fine.” I take V by the hand and we move to the stairs. We start to call out for Salem, hurrying up each step. I begin to take in the details of the upstairs section of Chuck’s house. Some of the bedroom doors stay shut, I don’t think we’ll use them in our final plan. But the hallway, I can work with. From the end of the hall, Salem prances over to us. I sigh in relief, and I bend down to pick Salem up.

“You hear what he said about Midge?” I whisper, hoping Chuck isn’t eavesdropping from downstairs.

“Oh, trust me. I got every word.” Salem growls in my arms. “You need to act before you two lose your chance.” V starts to glance back and forth between the hallway and us. Her inhales and exhales gradualize in fear. Her eyes widen. I meet her gaze.

“The alcohol.” I mutter.

“Damnit,” V comes to the realization too, “He’s gonna get too drunk for this to work!”

“Don’t say that.” Salem snaps us both out of it. He leaps out of my arms and lifts his head up. “The illusions will scare him more while we have him under the influence. Ramp it up more, make the performance top notch.” He concludes his pep talk. V and I exchange a timid glance. I admit that I could just walk out now and never turn back. I could convince V to have Chuck write a written confession of his wrong-doings if he does have the rest of his drink. Or call the police and say something…. But we’ve already come so far now. What would be the point of backing out? What would the Weird Sisters say if I obtained cold feet? What would Suzie say? They’d all call me a coward. Not a real Spellman. I don’t deserve to be the Former High Priest’s daughter.

I strategize out loud, “We have the house to our advantage. If we can get into these other rooms, maybe the pool too….”

“There’s no other way he can avoid what he did.” V finishes my thoughts.

“What the hell is going on?” a new voice booms. V and I whip around to find Chuck at the end of the hallway, cautiously keeping his distance from us. He spies Salem between us on the ground, then he follows his eyes upward. He starts to laugh, shaking his head. Did the alcohol already start to affect him? He breathes, then says, “Shit. If you didn’t want me to talk about Midge Klump, you could’ve just said something! You don’t have to retreat up here to get emotional support from your cat!” He laughs more, pointing at Salem. V looks at me, waiting for me to do something. Or say something. I take a moment to glance down at Salem before I address Chuck.

“Did you say that to the others, Chuck?”

He shows no emotion at my words. He scoffs, “What others?” like it’s all a joke. Well, it won’t be a joke in the next few minutes. The lights above us start to flicker. It’s subtle, but it catches Chuck’s attention. V and I share a glance. I raise a brow. She smiles. Salem chuckles.

“Showtime, ladies.” he purs. We both turn our heads to Chuck. I start to use magic to intensify the flickering. V begins to create the first illusion, all out of sight. Chuck’s face falls. He starts to back away ever so slightly.

“What others?” he calls out to us. V takes a step forward.

“Why don’t you ask them yourself?”

Chuck takes another step backwards, about to bolt in the opposite direction, but his path is blocked. A girl about our age with brown hair and dark eyes stands before him. She shares the same look of anger and determination. He’s stunned to see her. And confused. And, now he’s beginning to panic.

“Ginger? How the hell did you get into my house?” The figment girl, Ginger, stays in her spot.

The figment speaks, “Do you remember, Chuck? Back in the seventh grade?” I get chills down my spine. I’m impressed that V conuld conjur her looks in a timely manner, and that she could get Ginger’s voice on the spot. I start to draft the next surprise in my head while Chuck has his occupation on our first “visitor”. Chuck doesn’t respond to this Fake Ginger. He steps an inch back. She continues, “We were paired up for Seven Minutes in Heaven at Donna’s birthday party. We waited in that closet for 6 and a half minutes before we even kissed. And it was short too. All we did was kiss. But that’s not what you told everyone else…”

“Ginger….I don’t understan---”

“You claimed I had a lot of game. Talked it up with all of your football buddies. You got called popular, but all I got called was slut.” Now it finally hits him. Chuck quickens his pace to get away from Fake Ginger. By this point, I’ve prepared our new visitor. Chuck goes to turn away, but is stopped again. His eyes widen.

“Tina?”

“Freshmen year,” the Fake Tina interjects, “You had me as a model for your art class. Your first one bailed out so I jumped in. One moment, it’s a homework assignment. Next, there’s drawings of me all over school, on the lockers, on doors, EVERYWHERE.” Chuck tries to get out but Fake Ginger blocks him. He’s trapped between the two, there’s no escape.

He makes an attempt to plead freedom, “I never posted those up. I don’t know who got them---”

“But you drew them!” Fake Tina screams. “You drew me without clothes on, and teachers saw it. Students saw it. All of my cheermates!”

“No….” Chuck looks back and forth at the figments. His state of panic worsens. His breathing hardens, getting louder. “No, you’re full of shit! Both of you!” V gives me another look. _Next part_. I nod and cause the flickering to get deeper, the lights starting to fully go out and back in again. Ginger and Tina start to circle him, he’s twisting his head to catch up with their movements. He stutters, shaking his head. “No no no no no, this can’t be happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t real, man!” Chuck attempts to run out of the circle, but Tina forces him back in the middle. If he thinks this level of torture is scary, he won’t know how to respond to what comes next.

Chuck finds a breakthrough and bolts down to the living room. I follow him down, crafting my next trick. He goes into the kitchen and violently comes to a halt. By the kitchen island, more girls appear, all stern and out for blood.

“What….what the….” his paranoia grows as my illusion increases.

“Own up to it, Chuck.” the chorus of women chant. Not one smile cracks on each face. Their eyes all stay on him like Blythe dolls. V comes to my side, her illusions of Ginger and Tina advancing on Chuck. His breathing gets louder, more unstable. He can’t escape this now.

“YOU’RE ALL MANIACS!” he screams. “YOU’RE MAKING THIS UP!” He bolts away, shoving Ginger and Tina aside. He makes a break for the door, but Salem stops him in his path. Salem growls, striding towards Chuck one paw at a time.

“You think this is just gonna go away?” the kitchen chorus speaks in unison, the voices boom in his ears. He covers them, shaking his head again.

“It won’t, Chuck.” one voice says.

“There’s no use of running.” another adds.

“Own up to what you did to me.”

Ginger faces him. “And me.” she says. Tina says it too. “And me.” The voices layer, surrounding the hallway behind me and V. We all stand together, the lights overhead violently flashing. Our illusions go in and out in timing with the lights. Tears stream down his cheeks, but he stays silent. Stunned. Each girl disappears one by one, “AND ME.” becoming louder. They all fade until V and I are remaining. V steps forward after the last illusion disappears. Her fingers curl to make fists.

“And me.” her voice is low but her message is clear. Chuck stumbles back, contemplating whether he should go for the door again. Salem stands his ground, hissing. Chuck can’t run now, he can’t ignore what he saw. He’ll confess to those awful things any second now. His head rapidly turns from V to Salem, V to Salem, over and over - I swear his head might snap. He screams.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Chuck bolts past V, runs past me, and runs out through the pool door. V and I follow after him, Salem catching up to watch what happens. Chuck stumbles into the darkness, panting and out of breath. He sees us from behind and tries to back away. Big mistake. He doesn’t realize that he’s at the edge of his pool. He loses balance, fighting to stay on ground, but it’s too late. He falls into the pool.

Everything goes quiet. Is he drowning? Oh no…..this wasn’t part of the plan. V and I hurry over to get a better look. I use some magic to turn on some overhead light sources and pool lights. The hot tub sparks to life with yellow and blue, and so does the pool. The water starts to ripple in agony. Chuck pops up, gasping for air.

“And he lives.” Salem comments. I glance over at V and she nods. Time to get our confession. V pulls out her phone and starts to record a video. Chuck looks at us in despair.

“You…..you….” he pants in between breaths. “YOU BITCHES!”

“Just own up to what you did, and we’ll leave you alone.” I tell him point blank. He doesn’t bother to listen. He makes an attempt to swim to the edge and climb out. V uses magic to make a wave with the pool water, forcing him back. Salem hisses, his paws on the edge, claws digging in.

“You’re overreacting!” he screams. “I didn’t do anything to those girls!” Chuck, out of a last resort, turns to V. He looks worn out. Exhausted. He’s begging for a life sentence. “Veronica, please. I….I didn’t…..”

“But you did.” she cuts him off, her phone shakes in her hands. Her anger builds with each breath. I notice her eyes getting teary. She takes a deep breath, then speaks, “You took me to the movies downtown. You made me believe that you were a gentleman. I even let you kiss me.” She stops, she hangs her head. She lets out a quiet sob. My heart breaks for her. I take V’s hand and glare at Chuck in full anger. V lifts her head back up, not bothering to wipe away any tears before she goes on, “You wanted more than that.”

Chuck stutters, “Ver….Veronica….”

“I could have just gone to the police.” V interjects, her voice booming now. “I could have gone to my father. I could have killed you with my own bare hands!” Her tears flow down faster….there’s black tears running down. Yet, her makeup is still intact.

I shift my focus back to our objective. I make the next statement, “We’re giving these girls back their voices. We aren’t afraid to speak up. What you did hurt V, and it hurt the others too.” Chuck breaks down, he starts shaking his head in a low hang. I make the final proposition, “Admit what you did, say you’re sorry, and we’ll go.” He stays unresponsive. He just shakes his head.

“I didn’t….” he sobs. “I didn’t do anything….”

“Look into the camera and say you’re sorry.” I point at V’s phone. Chuck blinks at me with weepy eyes. He knows now that V and I aren’t backing off. He has to do this. Accepting defeat, Chuck swims to the edge once more. Salem snarls the closer Chuck comes. “Salem, it’s okay.” I address my familiar in a calm tone. I turn back to Chuck, signaling for him to speak. His head leans back into the water, he lets out a cry.

“Fine! Okay, I did it!” Chuck yells, directing his attention to V’s phone. His sobs gradualize in between phrases, “I went after those girls. And I went after Veronica Lodge. I’m a monster, and I’m sorry. I promise to never go near another girl again. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’M OWNING UP TO IT!”

I stand there frozen. I didn’t realize I held my breath during his rant until my heartbeat picks up. I release the built up air. It’s over. We did it. I turn to V…...something’s not right. The phone slips from her hands. She’s still crying, the black tears streaming more. Where is it coming from? She doesn’t make a single noise. She just stares at him.

“You’re lying.” she mutters. She lowers her hand down to around her stomach, her hand shakes in rage. It’s getting hot in this area of the house….which makes no sense. We’re out by the pool in the middle of November. It’s supposed to be cold out….

“Salem, was this part of the plan?” I turn to my familiar and whisper. Salem keeps his gaze on Chuck, not answering me. I look back at V, then back down at Chuck. The pool ripples, each wave rising and falling. Chuck struggles to stay afloat. What is V doing?

“Say it like you mean it.” V grits through her teeth. Chuck tries to speak but water flies into his mouth. It sends him back and down. V’s fingers bend in all speeds and shapes, it gets hotter in the pool area. I can’t move, I’m at a loss of words, but I still hold onto V. I have to talk her out of this before it gets worse.

“V?” I bend down to grab her phone on the tile floor. Maybe this will snap her out of….whatever this is. But it doesn’t. She stays locked on him, her brown eyes starting to turn black. No….her eyes are getting fully black. There’s something red, or of a dark color, trickling out of her eardrum.

“Say it, Chuck. SAY YOU’RE SORRY.” V gets louder over the water. He starts to choke. I can hear Salem release a low cackle. The water crashes in a deadly manner. The heat is becoming unbearable. I realize that Chuck is going to die. And V will be responsible.

“SAY IT!”

“V!” I step in front of her, placing both of my hands on her shoulders. Her gaze goes soft. The blackness that consumed her eyes fades. The normal color of her eyes reappears. Her nose begins to bleed. She looks at me, she blinks….. Her lip trembles. Panic seeps in. She looks over my shoulder at Chuck in the water. The magic she used to control the movement of the water and the heat ceases. It gets cool again. The water ripples back to a normal pace. Chuck gasps for air behind us, coughing. V glances around and her mouth hangs. She’s on the verge of tears as she realizes what could have happened. “‘Brina?” her voice breaks, she sobs. I glance over my shoulder at Chuck. A thought hits me - Chuck could have us locked up for attempted murder. Chuck will remember our faces. What we did….what V was about to do. I have to leave. I have to get V out of here.

I start to lead her away from the pool. I give Chuck one last look, taking a solid breath to keep myself from falling apart too. “Come near any of those girls again, including V, and you’ll face much worse.” He stares at me, numb and petrified. V clings to me as I open back up the doorway. We walk back into the house, heading out the door. I stop - what if someone sees us coming out of the house? I lead V out back to the pool area, passing Chuck on the way out through the patio door. I don’t see Salem still perched by the pool’s edge…..

We start to go through the backyard as our alternative route out of here. Luckily, some of the neighbors seem to be asleep or not here, so it gives us more leeway to make our escape. V sobs, and I do my best to calm her. Behind us, Salem gallops over. “Where are you going? Aren’t we going to finish him off?” I stop, my hold on V loosens slightly. Finish him off?

I look down at Salem. “You thought we were going to kill him?” I don’t know what else to say. How could Salem think this? Our plan was to scare him into a confession, not to murder him! Unless Salem somehow misinterpreted everything….. “No.” I speak, starting to walk away with V. “We’ve already gone too far, Salem. We gotta get V out of here before anyone sees us!” My pace slows so I can have Salem follow us. V’s wails pierce the silent night. I look over my shoulder, Salem is still in his spot.

“Salem, come on!” I hiss, hoping to not wake up any of the Clayton’s neighbors. I huff, “We can use a spell to wipe his memory out or something later! It’s no use doing any more harm now!” Salem glances back at the house, then he returns his gaze to us. His head circles as he lets out a deafening meow. His eyes go from the blue-green to…..grey. No…..it’s a dark color. Like the stuff coming out of V’s ears.

“Fine.” Salem spits out. “If you won’t take care of Chuck Clayton, I’ll do it myself.” He runs off, sprinting back to the Clayton house. What is he doing? I call out for Salem, but no avail. It’s too dark and I can’t see where he ran off to. The only light comes from the pool area in the house. I’m tempted to go back in and get Salem…..or to see what Salem will do to Chuck. But something happened to V, something not at our level of witchcraft. She’s still scared. And I’m scared too. I’m scared for her…..

I force the lump in my throat down, then V and I continue on my path. I just hope Salem doesn’t do anything severe or deadly, even if Chuck Clayton deserves it.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

I can’t process a sentence. My jaw hangs to a degree. My hands tremble. Veronica is adopted? How? She looks too much like Hiram and Hermione….

I still try to process the information when our waiter returns with house salads for both of us. Hiram sends the other man away before grabbing his fork. He notices my state of being and pauses.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, Alice, but it is true. It’s only a mere coincidence that Veronica just happens to share my features. And Hermione Gomez’s as well.” He starts to dig in. I figure I should start eating as well, just so I don’t come off rude. I reach for my own fork and twist it around in the salad. My mind is still trapped.

I swallow a lump in my throat. “Does she know, Hiram?” He taps his fork down on the plate. His faces fall. It takes him a good moment before he answers me. “Have you told her?”

“I’ve contemplated it over the years.” He keeps his phrasing short and sweet. He’s about to dig in again then stops. His eyes shut as he inhales. “Of course it doesn’t help that the remainder of the Lodge family knows about it. I’m surprised that none of _mis parientes_ have brought the subject up to her at any get-togethers. Because…..taking her in became a bit of an uproar. Not just with the Lodges….” He stops. Who else could know about Veronica’s adoption? It takes me a second, then the voice in my head finishes his sentence. _It became an uproar with the Church of Night_.

I want to ask more. I’m eager to know now if that’s why she has to take the Path of Night, and he wants Sabrina to join her….or act as a guide, I’m still not sure on this debacle. I finally take a forkful of salad and shove it into my mouth. It’s the first real food item I’ve had in my body since breakfast. I mean, it’s not a Thanksgiving meal, but it’s edible. I try to distract myself a bit on the matter by digging more into this salad. But there’s one thing that I can’t quite grasp…..if adopting Veronica upset the Church…..how was he able to get away with marrying Hermione? A mortal?

“I did my best to let it all slide at first.” Hiram breaks our prolonged silence, “Hermione was just over the moon about the whole thing….finally bringing home a baby. Raising children never grew as a major topic for us when we got married. At that time, she…..was still recovering from that accident,” My heart grows heavy, my eyes dart around the room in regret. I’m not sure if he knows the truth about what happened that night. I continue to listen, “and I was doing everything in my power to maintain peace with the Church. We were both so busy to consider raising a child…...then one day, she just….” He tries to find the appropriate words. He makes a gesture with his free hand, “appeared at our door, all bundled up and crying. There was no birth certificate on hand, no note to explain her identity, no rhyme or reason. I thought about taking her to an orphanage, or even another family within the Church…..but seeing how Hermione cared for her….” he forms a faint smile. I can’t tell if his eyes are getting misty or if it’s the lighting in this place. “If it was worth keeping Veronica to Hermione…..then I figured it’d be worth it for me too.”

I twist my fork around in my salad. I’m trying to remember if Hermione ever talked about having kids, a rich husband, and all the other things of life. If she ever had the pre-partum crazies like most of the girls in our class. I still can’t wrap my head around the whole adoption thing. Were they just taking a break from the whole baby thing when Veronica came into their lives? There’s no other way they could have, unless he wanted to wait to get approval from the Church, unless like he said they really weren’t keen on the whole baby thing, unless she was….. Unless she was…..

The fork slips out of my hand with a clank. My hand flies to my mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut, in hope to fight back any forming tears. My heart races, almost flying out of my chest. It finally clicks in my head.

Hermione wasn’t able to have any children.

“Your accident didn’t cause her infertility, Alice. That I can reassure you.” he responds to my state of being. I force my eyes open and notice the somber yet neutral emotion on his face. He sighs, “She never had the ability to bear a child long before high school. It was part of the reason how I was able to convince the Church to let me marry her. If we only engage in courtship with no means of producing a child for the Church of Night….trust me, it was a long and hard battle, but luck came on my side. And hers.” His gaze wanders down to the table, the emotions reading less neutral, more in mourning. “I don’t even know if I have any luck anymore, especially when it comes to Church-business. Raising Veronica on my own has been a challenge, I won’t lie. Everything I do is to keep her safe. To keep her from making the same mistakes as I once did in my youth.” My hand releases from my mouth. If Veronica’s safety matters that much, no matter how little he shows it in public, it could be the emotional leverage I need to get him to help me.

I finally speak up, “That’s why I need you in on this, Hiram. If Hal is out, any guarantee of Sabrina….or Veronica, being safe is out the window.” He starts to lose some emotion in his face. I lean in, my forearms grazing along the tablecloth. I look at him, “I get if promising two more witches to go down the Path of Night means you keep your family safe from a damaged reputation, but…..” I take a shaky breath. How do I phrase this? How do I keep him in this possible negotiation? I glance down at my plate for a brief moment, then my eyes meet his again, “that might not be a possibility if they fall victim to Hal. The same way I…..” I stop. My inner voice finishes for my mouth, _The same way I almost did_.

I allow the silence to take over. I pick up my fork and scoop for another bit of salad. “I’m not asking you to make up your mind now.” I mutter, “Just think about it.” I look down, the salad no longer appealing to me. I decide instead to grab my drink, sipping on it slowly. Well, great. This is awkward. We’re not even at our main course, and I’ve already dampered our meeting with this talk of Hal and Hermione. I’m worried that we’ll have to resort to small talk and painful silence as a way to move on from this point. I should have waited until the end of the night. What was I thinking? The alcohol creeps into my system. I feel light and airy, considering this is the first form of calories I’ve consumed following work. I might be drunk…..at least I think I am…..there’s a tick in my head. One that I can’t exactly describe. It’s like the dull ache I experienced the night at Pop’s. It’s not super painful, but it’s there. I shake the feeling off and take another sip.

The waiter takes away our salad plates, it’s even more quiet now.I kind of want to cry. I want to ask more about Hermione and their marriage. I want to talk about anything, just so I don’t have this dread floating around, even more now that I’m starting to get drunk. Hiram picks up on this, grabbing for some water. “Have you talked with anyone else about this matter?” he sounds raspy. The little ache in my head increases. What’s even in this drink? Is it the drink at all? I set the glass down and clear my throat. I, too, reach for water.

I state my response carefully, “Not really.” It’s partially true - no other _witch_ knows about Hal. I would include Gladys, but it might be risky if he learned I shared it with…..a non-magical member of a family full of witches. And as for Sabrina…..she still doesn’t know all of the details yet. If only I stopped getting cold feet, and she and I could make our schedules meet to talk.

“I’ve been….wanting to open up to Sabrina. I’ve tried.” I admit to Hiram. I review the times that I made those attempts….first in the car on the way into Riverdale, then at Pop’s after the soccer game, the trailer park when we had alone time….. “Life just keeps getting in the way, though.” I tell him, rewarding my throat with some ice water.

“What about Hilda and Zelda?” he begs the question. I grip onto the water glass, the condensation freezing my fingers. I don’t think I spent any time discussing my past with the Spellman Sisters. Or Ambrose. When I showed up in Greendale, I made a valiant effort to build up my walls, throw my past as Alice Suzanna Smith away, begin anew. I don’t even remember how I introduced my history to them, or maybe I never did. It would have helped now though, since they were the ones who suggested Sabrina go to Riverdale while awaiting her trial….

“They have no clue. Nobody in Greendale does. I made sure to keep it that way.” I let go of the glass. I start to chew on my tongue anxiously. Before, I never saw my isolation as a problem. It kept me from staying trapped in the past. It kept my mind busy. Now…..I’m not so sure if was all worth it. I don’t know if I’m angry at Hilda and Zelda for thinking sending Sabrina to Riverdale was the best idea, or if I’m angry…..at myself. For not speaking up. For not suggestion someplace else. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have seen FP again, I wouldn’t have befriended Gladys, I wouldn’t have learned the truth about Hiram. And Hal would have found a way out eventually…..

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.” I sigh, retreating for another sip of water. I glance up at the little lights above, I can feel my walls breaking. My neutral facade revealing more of my own emotions. I chuckle, despite this dread. “My past was bound to come back and bite me in the ass someday. I didn’t figure it’d be this soon….all that running away for….for it to start happening all over again.” My thoughts drift to Pop’s. The sickness I went through. The connection to Hal being released. If I felt it then…..would that mean…..

His face falls. He blinks at me in confusion. “Start happening…..you think something will come up?” I don’t know how to go on with this. I realize that this is the first time I’ve opened up about the sickness from my over excessive magic use. Or why I felt that connection with Hal, even after 25 years.

The ache in my head doubles in severity. It stops me from speaking, from trying to form a coherent sentence. It’s much worse than the ache I felt at Pop’s, it makes me dizzy. My mouth slips open, my heart pounds in my ears. I can hear someone screaming. A boy, I don’t know how old, but he doesn’t sound like a child. He’s screaming for help. I can hear water splashing. I glance around the venue. Is there a teenage boy in this restaurant? Is there a source of water?

“Alice?” Hiram sees my state and starts to show concern. My vision goes out, and it comes back. Only I’m not sure if I’m at Lenny’s….I’m at a pool. Someone is in the water. The boy maybe? I hear a snarl….is it coming from me? My viewpoint raises, I’m over the boy in the water. He cries for help. He yells for God. Whatever I’m seeing through, it attacks.

Something digs into my chest. A ripping. My hand flies to my heart area, the dizziness worsens. Hiram calls out my name again, I look at him in panic. “I’ll….” I make an attempt to stand up, gripping onto the table. “I’ll be right back.” I turn away, my hand glued to my chest. My feet lead me to the bathroom. No, I want fresh air, but the bathroom will do. I feel sick. I just witnessed a murder. An attack on who? I don’t know. This isn’t the alcohol. I’m not crazy, am I?

I stumble against the wall, I fight the urge to vomit. The pain is growing to be unbearable. I force myself to stand above one of the sinks. My fingers grasp onto the ceramic. I pant, hoping to bring some air back into my lungs. I look at my reflection, my vision keeps going back and forth between the bathroom and that pool…..the water is starting to turn red. The screams fade under the growling. What is this thing? Where is this happening? I start to feel a trickle down my nose.

I snap out of my visions. I’m tempted to use magic to open the window, but I’m worried of sparking a reason to vomit. I turn back to the reflection, taking in the dark blood running out of my nostril. I bless under my breath, wiping away the blood trail. I turn on the sink to clean off my hands and get myself together. I stop after a while, letting the hot water run over my hands. Even under this layer of makeup, even in this bathroom lighting, I look skeletal. The pain in my head dies down, I wish I had brought some herbal remedy with me. Or any form of mortal painkillers. This couldn’t have been Hal…..could it? I try to think back…..did Hal go after my classmates in any other form? The only times I saw him were when he appeared in human form, before and after each…..kill. And the one time he didn’t kill….

_We arrived to a dark and bare Sunnyside trailer park. I wasn’t sure if there was a Serpent meeting that night, but my father wouldn’t be in the trailer. So that allowed me and Hal to go about our business….to enact what we would do to Hiram._

_I stepped out of my vehicle, taking a deep breath of the cold, night air. I shivered and waited for Hiram to get out…..and waited for Hal to show up. Hiram slammed the door shut and glanced around. I was waiting for him to make some comment about the dirtiness of this place, but he stayed quiet. It was a relief, but it left me a bit unsettled._

_“Come on.” I nudged him as I walked past the hood of my car, heading up the steps to my front door. I looked out into the night sky. I hoped Hal would show up soon, I didn’t know if I could enact this on my own. I fumbled with the keys for a bit, then I finally pried the door open. I forgot I turned out the lights before leaving, but the atmospheric element fit. I waved for Hiram to come in. I stood to the side so he could enter first….I did this deliberately so I could leave the front door ajar for Hal. Everything needed to go according to plan. It just had to._

_“Small shack you have.” Hiram paced through my living room. His hands stayed in his pockets, I could see his breath forming in the cold air. Even though it was dark, I feared that he would see how nervous I was, how on edge I’d been leading up to this very moment. I went through the details in my head - was I supposed to keep him in the living room? Did I need to have him come with me to the bedroom? When was Hal going to show up and take over? Would this work?_

_“My dad keeps a majority of his stash in the closet.” I started to head into the bedroom. I knew my dad hid some of the drugs he stole from other Serpents in the oddest parts of our trailer - under the bed, in the freezer, behind the toilet, buried under clothes in the closet. He had so much of it, I didn’t think he’d mind if I took some for….a client of sorts. I shoved some of my dad’s clothes aside and searched for the drugs…..or at least I made it out that way when Hiram followed me into the bedroom. I riffled through the assortment - oxycodone, ecstasy, some jingle jangle. I grabbed a handful of each kind and turned back to Hiram. I stood there facing him with the drugs in my hands, I couldn’t move I was too scared. Was I going too fast with this? Before I could walk over or speak, a cold draft blew through the trailer. I could hear a light flicker outside. The vibe of the trailer felt different, but it was comforting. It was a signal that Hal was there. I smiled a bit, making sure it wasn’t too obvious to Hiram. _

_I stepped forward, holding the drugs out for him to take. He started to dig through his pockets, a sense of dread coming apparent on his face. He didn’t have any money on him? I sighed, “Dude, it’s fine. You can pay me back later. My dad won’t even realized this is gone.”_

_“You deserve compensation, though.” he groaned, finally giving up on turning his pockets inside out. He huffed before addressing me again, “I feel awful for even having asked in the first place, believe me. I guess I just….wanted out of that party.” Something crashed in the living room. Hiram jumped back and peered out through the doorway. Yep, Hal was ready to go. _

_“You think flying high like a kite’s gonna spare you from social interaction?” I snarked at him, pretending that the noise didn’t faze me. Hiram started to breathe heavily. Whatever Hal did, it spooked him. He turned back to me, took a deep inhale, then held his hand out._

_“I’ll bring the money to school. I promise.” he spoke quickly. It almost made me chuckle. I hesitated a moment, then I stepped in. I hovered the drugs over his hand and stopped. I gripped onto them tighter. Hiram noticed my movements and looked up at me. _

_I smirked. “Just one thing….Don’t call me Acid Queen Alice again. Ever.”_

_His face fell. As he opened his mouth to speak, I released the drugs from my grip. The drug baggies dissolved into fire, building a border between me and Hiram. He lept back and yelped. The wall of fire grew, under my control of course, and continued to follow Hiram’s path. He glanced down at the fire then back up at me. I only stood there with that smirk on my face. Out of sheer panic, Hiram bolted out of the bedroom, heading straight into the living room. He didn’t bother to see a tall figure, dawned in a black ski mask and a leather jacket, about to approach him with an axe. Hiram stopped, seeing the figure in full form._

_“What the f---” The figure swung the axe, Hiram ducked. The axe attempted to make a blow, one left, one right. Hiram avoided both with speed. He made an attempt to back away, but he was to far down to the ground that he fell back. The figure raised the axe and threw down the blade. Hiram rolled away and got back up onto his feet. He bolted for the front door. I reappeared and used magic to keep him still. The figure went to go for Hiram again, but I motioned for him to stop. Hiram looked petrified at the both of us. He turned to me in panic._

_“You’re….you’re a….you’re a witch?”_

_“Damn straight, Manhattan.” I boasted in pride. “So cross me again, and you’ll get much worse. You might have another run in with my friend over here too. But if it were me, I wouldn’t test my luck. Got it?” Hiram didn’t say a word. He was paralyzed in my hold. The figure took another step forward, preparing the axe._

_“Okay! Okay….” Hiram held his hands up in defense. Out of mercy, I released my hold on him. He looked at me with wet eyes. Maybe I didn’t realize it then, but it would change how he treated me, even coming back to Riverdale years later. He didn’t move. After a second or two, I took another step toward him._

_“This is the part where you run, dumbass.” I gritted. With that, Hiram threw the door open and ran out, not looking back._

_It was over. I ran my fingers through my hair and whirled around in utter glee. I laughed for the first time in days. I was free, Acid Queen Alice would be no more…..at least I thought at the time. I faced the figure in the living room. Hal removed the ski mask and dropped the axe on the floor. His top row of teeth showed when he smiled at me. His eyes were full of….something I never really had anyone else show when they looked at me. Admirition. Pure enjoyment. Desire…._

_“Should we chase after him?” Hal began to walk towards me. I cackled at the question._

_"_ _Nah, let him run.” I started to meet Hal halfway. “All that matters is that I am a candy girl, no more.” I curtsied at the last sentence, Hal chuckled. We came face to face, merely inches apart. The color of his eyes shone in the dark. I didn’t know if I could feel heat from the fire I manifested or….could familiars radiate heat? Whatever it was, it loomed between us. It warmed me. I brought my hands up to cup his face, and I beamed. “I’m free of all of that, thanks to you.”_

_“I’m always here for you.” he muttered in return. I came in for a hug. I clung to him and he wrapped his arms around me. We stayed here for a moment or two, then we pulled back….only to lock our eyes on each other. His breath mixed with mine. The beating of my heart slowed. A hand moved from my back to my face, fingers going through my hair ever so gently. It sent tingles through me. He stared at me in wonder. Butterflies floated in my stomach…..maybe they were really warning signs that I didn’t take for granted. But then, it felt right being with him. Being this closed. Feeling wanted for the first time. And I was that vulnerable enough to let it happen._

_I hadn’t kissed anyone, despite the reputation of my “sex life” at school; I always imagined it being after a romantic date, or at a movie theater, or somewhere out of the stereotypical rom-com setting. But when Hal kissed me, it washed away any expectations I conceived. It wasn’t light or quick. It was slow and all-consuming, but I liked it. I kissed back, pulling him more into me, I was so despearate and so stupid, looking back at it, but in the moment I wanted it. I craved it. I felt like I was drunk, each time our lips collided growing more passionate. His hands stroked my back, grazed my hips, it sent a volt of electricity through me._

_I eventually broke off, looking up at him. A smile came across my face. I wanted more, but not out in the open like this. I was new to this, but I still had some standards. I turned to the door and used some magic to send it shut. I faced Hal, raising a brow. He stepped in, I swore he growled. With a giggle, I took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom._

I snap out of my thoughts when a drop of blood hits the ceramic. The warm water stops doing much for me. I glance back up and notice my nose bleeding again. Great. I sigh and flick some water up to get the bleeding to stop. It doesn’t do much, so I have to grab a clean paper towel to wipe my nose again. I wash my hands again and turn off the water in frustration. I need to head back, I can’t leave Hiram waiting for me or thinking that I ditched. I make my way out of the bathroom and head down the hallway.

“Alice.” Hiram approaches me out of nowhere. I yelp and stumble back into the wall, my hand flying to my chest rising up and down. I grow cross.

I point a finger at him, “You are asking me to send you into Spellman Mortuary, I swear, Hiram!” He occupies the other side of the hallway, looking at me in regret.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” he testifies. “I told them to hold off on bringing our meals out until you came back….” He stops talking. He takes note of something about me. Something on my face. He steps towards me, he’s tempted to reach his fingers up but hesitates. He’s looking at my nose. “You had a nose bleed?”

I bring a finger to the area under my nostril. Did I not wash all of it off? Some dried blood smudges on my finger. “It’s…..it’s nothing. I’m fine.” He doesn’t believe me. He just stays there with his hand hovering in the air looking at me like his dog got run over. I roll my eyes at him, “I’m fine, Hiram.….” I say like I hope it would be fine. I hope it isn’t anything serious. I look at him again, his gaze becoming softer. I step in closer to him, I start to fidget with my hands nervously. I guess I’m still getting used to Hiram Lodge actually caring about someone other than himself or his daughter. I sigh. “You didn’t have to hold off on eating just to wait for me.”

“Actually there’s another reason why I did. I wanted to…..” he starts. What? What other reason? His eyes dart down both ends of the hallway to check for any eavesdroppers. I’m still confused.

“Wanted to _what_?” I attempt to pry out of him. He looks down at the ground, rests his hands on his waist, and huffs.

“I’ll do it.”

My back straightens. Air enters my nostrils. Did I just hear him correctly? He lifts his head up and continues to explain, “You asked me to think about it, and I did. You’re right - Veronica’s life is just as much in danger as Sabrina’s. And I certainly don’t have the strength to confront the Spellman Sisters if I ever have to explain why their niece’s blood is on my hands.” I’m speechless. I could scream for joy. He’s agreed to help. He actually agreed to do it. I could praise Satan, or even God, right now.

I’m still so much in shock, I’m tempted to ask him to confirm that it’s real. He smirks at me, saying, “So, it’s a yes. I’ll help you find your former familiar and banish him.” My hands fly to my hips, I let out an exhale of relief. This is the best news I’ve heard all day. This is up there with the high I had dancing around at Pop’s. I have Hiram on my side, and there’s no Church of Night or any…..

My face falls. It hits me. There has to be something in return. I look him in the eye. “But….”

He blinks at me in confusion. “But….what?”

I roll my eyes, my hands still solid on my hips. “There’s always a _but_ with you, Hiram. You want something out of this in return. So, you might as well just spit it out.”

I can see it in his face. He hates to admit it, but he knows I’m right. He huffs, “I already promised the Spellmans and the Witches Council that I would do my best to have Sabrina consider the Path of Night upon her return. I can’t break that, Alice.” I release the hold on my hips and cross my arms. I have to remind myself of why Sabrina’s even in Riverdale to begin with, no matter how I view the situation. And that no matter what happens with Hal, Sabrina can’t avoid what happened between her and the Church of Night forever. It doesn’t mean I can’t let her stay true to her opinions….

I start to contemplate out loud, “If there’s no other way out of it, maybe…..MAYBE, I can bring it up in conversation. Check in and see how she feels.” A wave of relief washes over him. I still stand my ground, “But that will only happen…..once we deal with Hal. That’s more of the priority right now.”

A microscopic smile forms on his face. “Then that settles it.” He pauses, staring down at his hand. Then, he lifts his hand up and holds it there. Does he want us to shake on it? There aren’t other contracts or deals we have to make, are there? Maybe I just find it strange that Hiram Lodge is actually agreeing to do this…..for me. He resumes, “We find your ex-familiar and banish him, and then we’ll get Sabrina back to Greendale, safe and sound.”

My fingers rise. I’m slow to bring my hand up to his level, but only because I’m hesitating. I got Hiram on my side, but I don’t fully know if I can trust him. Teen Alice screams in my head for me to run. To hex the daylights out of him, take Sabrina, and leave Riverdale. She doesn’t want me to find Hal. She wants me to hide. Well, I’m done hiding, and I’m done with running away.

I reach for his forearm and he reaches for mine. We latch on to one another. Something pulses through me. It stings my wrist. I wince at the pulse, and he does too. But we don’t let go. We wait for the pulse to disappear. It takes a solid minute, but once it fades we look at each other. Our hold on each other softens. He moves first, sliding his fingers across my wrist, my palm, the tips of my fingers. He studies his wrist, blinking at it. It prompts me to look at my own. I almost bless at what I see. There, like a tattoo, is something penned into my skin. I take a closer look. It has my initials, then his, and the date. This is our contract.

Hiram speaks up, “Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. It will go away when we complete our ends of the deal.” I run my fingers over it, still in awe. So this is how witches make agreements with one another? I try to remember if Zelda or Hilda ever had anything like this thing on my wrist, but yet again….I wanted to stay out of whatever business they conducted with the Church.

I shrug it off and allow my wrist to fall to my side. By this point, I’m starving and the salad hasn’t done much to satiate me. I step away from my place by the wall and make my way towards civilization. “We better get back.” I tell him, “Don’t want our food to get cold.” I start to leave, then stop. I hear Hiram let out a suppressed laugh from behind me. I whip my head to him. “What?”

“Nothing, just….” he comes closer, the small smile he made grows bigger. He beams, “Who would have thought? The New York prep school boy and the Serpent girl, after all these years….finally working together at last.” He glows in pure content. It weirds me out.

I tilt my head and raise a finger. “Don’t flirt with me, Manhattan!” I begin to walk away, for real this time. From behind, Hiram chuckles.

“Oh, Acid Queen Alice…..I think this the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

** _XXXXXXXX_ **

** **

** _End of Chapter Five_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm so much to discuss here - what will Sabrina do to control Salem? Is the Riverdale Reaper really back? And..... WHAT IS GOING ON WITH VERONICA?
> 
> So heads up - I have my finals coming up soon, so I will not have a chance to update this fic for a couple of weeks, or if I get a chance, it might not be on a Thursday. But I should be (hopefully) back on a regular posting schedule within the next couple of weeks.
> 
> Thank you for your patience, yal!


	7. Hidden Bodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE B*TCH, I BET YOU'D THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME....
> 
> Hello! I'm back! And I have a new chapter ready for your reading pleasure! You know the drill my dudes ;)

**SABRINA**

The drive back to Pembrooke is long and quiet. I decide to drive since V is still shaken from what happened, and I’ll admit I’m a bit shaken myself. I didn’t know she had that much power. That she could not control it. That it almost killed someone we knew. I carefully help V into the passenger’s side before I take the keys and sit behind the wheel. I move with ease, the geography of town still foregin, especially at night. V gasps and sniffles next to me, she glances out the window the entire time. I feel helpless. I want to help her, I want to keep her safe. I don’t know how she lost control, and I don’t know what I can do to help prevent that again. I just hope Salem isn’t the reason for that. And I hope he isn’t out there causing any more trouble with Chuck…

We return to the parking garage by Pembrooke, back in her parking spot. I lift V out of the car and allow her to cling to me as we make our way to the complex, through the back, up the stairs, down the hallway, inside her home. It’s dead silent when we walk through the door. Is Mister Lodge not back yet from his meeting? I use some magic to turn on the lights as I guide V near her room. The closer we get, the less she clings to me. We stop outside her room and she lets go of me.

“I’m gonna try to take a shower.” she mumbles, running her fingers through her hair. “If you want, we can ring Andre and have the staff make something for us to eat.” The last sentence makes my stomach growl. I remember I haven’t consumed anything since I stopped by the library. But I don’t know if I want any food in my stomach after what happened. And I’m too scared to leave V alone.

“Okay.” I wind up saying. I follow her into the bedroom and she hands me the number to call for dining services. I never had a personal waitstaff to bring a meal before, it just seems a bit unconventional that I’m experiencing this after a revenge-plan gone wrong. V waits to place her order with mine before she wanders off towards her bathroom, leaving me alone on the bed. She’s acting strong, but deep down it’s bugging her. She’s disturbed by what happened. I can see it on her face under the faked confidence. I can hear the shower running from the bathroom, V’s cries echo into the bedroom. And I can’t do anything at the moment to take away her grief. It upsets me. I reread the plan that we sketched out, nowhere does it indicate Salem attacking Chuck or V using more dark power. Something must have derailed along the way, or maybe….maybe Salem stayed behind for another reason.

V is still in the bathroom by the time our very late dinner arrives. I get the chance to meet Andre, he seems loyal and trustworthy to the Lodges, and I attempt to reassure that nothing’s wrong with V. I thank him after our small talk and send him on his way. I remove the lids from the plates of food, the aroma hitting me instantly. By this time, V emerges from the bathroom, covered in a silk robe and with her hair in a towel. I tell her that the food was just delivered and ready, cuing her to come over and grab her plate. I start to dig into my Monte Cristo sandwich, and it melts in my mouth. I’m caught up in my ravenous hunger that I almost don’t realize V is barely making a dent. She shuffles her potatoes around with her fork in silence. I set what I have left of this first half of my sandwich. I go to open my mouth.

“I don’t know why I lost control, ‘Brina.” V jumps in, setting her fork down. With her plate in her hands, she inches closer to me on the bed. She sighed, “I’ve had formal training to handle my witchcraft, but….it’s like every time I let my emotions get to the worst of me…...I…..I can’t explain it. I just know that I’ve always struggled to keep my emotions under check.” I set my plate to the side and allow my hands to fall into my lap. I have so many questions to ask, but I don’t want to bombard V with anything sensitive, even right in this moment.

So I take it slow, “Has something…..like tonight…..has that happened before, V?” She breaks her eye contact with me, her gazing going off into the distance. She’s quiet for a while, then she removes the towel from her head. She clings onto it as her wet hair rests on her shoulders. Her lips tighten together.

“There’s a reason Daddy and I came to Riverdale in the first place.” she begins her story, “I was a different person back in New York. Most of whom I interacted with came from high witch families or members of the Witches Council. I lived in a world of the elite….I never fully realized what it meant to love the human part of myself until I got older. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my witch life….but I wanted to see how the other half lived. So, with some convincing on my end, my father allowed me to start going to prep school and forming social circles with other mortal children. Only….I didn’t really how to interact with the other kids. I didn’t know how to properly handle my witchcraft around them. But somehow I managed to get myself with the rich and popular at school…..maybe that’s why everyone in Riverdale considers me an ice-cold bitch.

“Anyway, with that crowd….I met this boy, Nick St. Clair. In a way, he had Chuck’s personality, but he was more of an academic. He was charming, and he became intrigued with me…..or so I thought.” she pauses for a moment, moving the damp towel to the side and allowing herself to take a bite of her food. She finishes the bite before continuing, “I didn’t understand why he would want to spend more time around a new girl like me, but I was…..desperate for any kind of social interaction that could help me integrate to mortal life better. So we had a fling, nothing too serious. We’d go on dates in the city, we’d pair up for school projects. But I never really saw much romantic or sexual attraction for him…..he probably did for me…..but I guess I never confirmed that for real. Not even after….”

“Not after what?” I ask for clarification. V takes a shaky breath. Her knee starts to bounce. She swallows a lump in her throat.

“Around the end of the school year, back in May, he invited me over to have dinner with his parents. I met his parents before, they were lovely people….but something seemed off about them that night…..Nick too. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, so I just tried to let the feeling go. The whole dinner with them made me feel funny….. But that wasn’t the bad part. It was after dinner when…..when everything went wrong.”

When….everything went wrong? I try to think of the possibilties - what did this Nick St. Clair boy do? What did his family do? Did….did they find out V was a witch? I turn to her and wait for an explanation. But she’s frozen - her mouth doesn’t open. She just stares blankly at the other side of the bedroom with no focus. What did they do to her? I want to ask, but then V raises her hand to my head. Her fingertips gently touch the side of my head. She whispers, “It might be better if you see for yourself.” She takes a deep breath, then a pulse goes into my head. My sight goes black for a second, then….then…..

My heart drops to my stomach. What I see is only a memory, yet it leaves me disturbed. Nick is….was like Chuck. He tried to get with V against her will. He cornered her, tried to make her feel vulnerable. Tried to grab at her, but there was no kissing. No unwanted touches. Still….he made her afraid, and she snapped. She lost control the same way she did tonight with Chuck. She ran, I can hear her cries echo in my head. Or maybe it’s me that’s crying. When the memory ends, when V releases her fingers from my forehead, my vision returns, my eyes are wet. I don’t make a sound when I wipe at my tear-stained cheeks. I look at her, dumbfounded at the reveal but mesmerized at what I just experienced. I never had another witch bond with me in such a way before.

V curls her fingers in and out of a fist. She picks up, “I felt so helpless. I didn’t know what to do or who to turn to for help. So….yes, I did tell my father about what happened. He was angry, not over what I did but why Nick got his hands on me. From that point, he told me he’d step in and take care of the matter. See to it that the St. Clair’s would have their comeuppance.” She goes quiet again, taking a few breaths. Her hands are shaking now. After the last inhale, she proceeds, “There’s a reason I didn’t want Daddy to get involved with the Chuck issue, Brina. I didn’t hear from Nick or his family after that night, I didn’t even know what they had been up to going into the summer. Maybe I should have checked in with them…..maybe I should have checked in on what Daddy was planning for them. The week before Labor Day, we were out for lunch at the Dakota - it’s where my father and I would go on special occasions - and during that meal, a member of the waitstaff came over bearing news of the St. Clairs…..

“They got into a car accident. Nick wound up in a coma, and his parents died. I was shocked, Brina. I didn’t know what to say…. That night, Daddy told me to pack my things. We were in Riverdale the next day. And we’ve been here since.” She finishes her story. She curls her knees into her chest and buries her forehead against her kneecaps. I can’t help but feel dreadful. V thinks it’s her fault that she and her father ended up in Riverdale. She blames herself, but it’s not true. It just can’t be. I shuffle closer to her and wrap my arms around her. I rest my head on her shoulder and stroke her forearm. I thought I was dealing with an immense amount of guilt over the Dark Baptism leading me here, but V has just as many demons too. I get why Mister Lodge wanted us to stay close together…..

“You’re not at fault, V.” I reassure her. She lifts her head up to look at me, lowering her feet to the ground. I take a firm hold of her hands. “You’re not a monster. Whatever this power is….we’ll get it under control. I’ll find a way to help you. Maybe Salem can too….” I trail off. At this point, I have no clue if Salem will turn up at Pembrooke later. I wonder what exactly it is he’s doing to Chuck….

“You think a familiar like Salem can cure me of this thing?” her voice croaks. I have to think on this for a moment. Maybe Salem might have some idea of whatever it is V has. Otherwise, how come he wants me to only be friends with her and no one else….

My mind goes back to a couple of nights ago, how it struck both me and Salem that V could hear him, how he made that connection with her so suddenly….. If he’s taken such a fond liking of her, why didn’t he try to stop her? Why did he let her keep going? What did he see about her that I’m missing?

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It takes me a while to fully wake up. The sky is still so dark blue, the sun has hours before it has to make its appearance. But I have to get up for work. I need to get the pies made for the day before I meet up with Hiram. I stay in bed for a bit, running my fingers over the new tattoo on my wrist. This little ink bound us together, and there’s no backing out. I know I won’t until I see Hal get dragged into the lowest possible pit of hell.

The plan Hiram and I made is simple. We’re both up early in the mornings, him going on runs and me at Pop’s making the daily pies, so we agreed to meet in the early hours before the rest of the world comes to life. We’ll do our research together, strengthen our magic, and gather whatever we need to track down Hal so we can lure him back to the Conway House, bind him, and banish him for good. It sounds straightforward on paper, but who knows how long this whole thing could take. I just hope we get it done before Sabrina is summoned back to Greendale for her trial….

The diner is practically empty this early in the morning, only a person or two come in for service. The quiet allows me to get going on the pies without distraction. Well, distraction from the outside world. I’m very much distracted by the thoughts circling my head, the details I’m trying to piece together for this ordeal. Did Hiram say he would meet me at Pop’s, or would I go to Pembrooke? Would we meet halfway at Pop’s? My memory’s become to damn muddy lately to remember smaller details. The flour sticks to my fingers and the hairs on my arms. My little apron has gunks of the filling for the apple and cherry pies. I contemplate whether or not it would be too early to bring pumpkin as an option for the diner….wait, is it really almost Thanksgiving? I check the calendar pinned up on the corkboard. It’s two days away. Sabrina and I came to Riverdale the night of November 8th. We’ve been here for three weeks. Three whole weeks, and not one word from Zelda or Hilda, or even Ambrose. No word from the Witches Council. And Hal is still out and in the open.

I get started on a pumpkin pie just to be safe. I would make this from scratch, but all I have in this kitchen is a giant can of pumpkin puree and the basics, so for now it will have to do. Besides, I need to speed this process up in case Hiram does show up ready to head out with me.

It’s almost 7 now, the pies are all cooked and ready to be served. I tend to a small handful of guests that come through, it keeps me busy. Giving the general Pop’s spiel and putting a smile on my face keeps me from not having a nervous breakdown. When will Hiram get here? Why can I not retain the details of our conversation? I clear out the table after an older gentleman pays his check and leaves, just as the clock strikes seven. There’s only a couple of people, but the other morning waitress has them covered. I need to get a move on with my day. I give Pop the heads up before I grab my change of clothes and head for the bathroom. It only takes me less than five minutes to get out of my uniform and sneakers and to throw on a long dress and wedges. They’re not exactly winter-savvy, but they’re clean and it’s part of what I have. I bid Pop farewell as I head out of the diner, retreating at last to my vehicle. I turn on the ignition just so I can get some heat while I wait in here.

Maybe it could be easier if I drove to Pembrooke and picked him up to…..wherever we would go. Or maybe we could stay there and do research, or even go back to the trailer. I do my best to recall the details from our conversation last night. All that sticks out is the news of Veronica not actually being a Lodge….I’m still stunned by it. So there’s no record of where she came from or why she appeared at Hiram and Hermione’s doorstep? Would the Witches Council….. No, Alice, focus. What did you talk about last night? What was your course of action? Did….did we say anything regarding the Conway—-

There’s a tap on my window. I don’t flinch at the sound, but it makes me grip the steering wheel for dear life. I turn to the sight of the noise, and my face relaxes. Outside, Hiram teeters on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets to stay warm. I breathe in and out a couple of times, then I unlock the car. I stay staring out the windshield as he makes his way around to the passenger’s side. I don’t notice the bag slung around him until he enters the car, plopping the bag onto his lap. I let go of the steering wheel and exhale.

“I didn’t keep you waiting too long, did I?” his teeth chatter. My fingers clamp together on my lap while I formulate an answer.

“You’re fine. I...I just forgot we were meeting here. Didn’t get much sleep last night. But….someone has to come in and make the pies, and….and it’s not fair for Pop to be in there all by himself, and for Gladys to work all those hours—-”

“You don’t have to apologize, Alice. It’s okay.” He shoots me a sympathetic grin. My nose twitches slightly. He looks tired too, but I won’t say it out loud. Did he not get enough sleep either? And what about…. I release my fingers and tap on the steering wheel.

“Is Sabrina okay?”

“I believe….” he trails off. “She and Veronica had already fallen asleep when I returned to Pembrooke. And I went on my morning run before I could check in with her. With both of them. But nothing came out of the ordinary from word of my staff, so….” He doesn’t finish his sentence. His face is neutral, but his eyes give away a notion of guilt. The lines that inhabitant the space between his eyes and his brows become more prominent. They show his age, even with our capability as witches to age slower. And it’s withered at me too, my human side takes that credit. Maybe it’s doing the same to him. The years on my face make me realize what I have to own up to. What I have to stop running from.

It comes to me. We have to go where it all began. I clear my throat, I wish I had some water on me. My hands retake a firm grasp on the wheel. The whiteness of my bones peaks through the flesh on my knuckles. I sound scratchy when I do speak, “We should go there first. The Conway House.”

“Alice…” Hiram comes off concerned. I ramble on before he can jump in.

“We could get some insight on what came through the house the night he got released. If someone performed a spell that summoned him, the evidence would still be there. It just has to, wouldn’t it? That way we have an idea of what….who, we have to face. And then….then we can….find him.” I clamp my mouth shut.

Next to me, Hiram lowers his shoulders. “I was going to offer to start there, but….I didn’t know if it was a good idea….if you weren’t comfortable with it.” I soften my gaze at him. I do appreciate his concern. It is risky to consider the Conway House to be our first destination, but I have to grow up. I can’t keep avoiding this and expect others to jump in and fix it for me. I don’t need Hiram to worry about me anymore than….than he might already does.

“To the Conway House, we go then.” I put the car in reverse and pull out of Pop’s. I haven’t gone down the roads to Fox Lane in a while, and most of the time, I never went there by car. It was always by foot. Still, I don’t need directions from Hiram, and I don’t need to pull up a map on Google. I remember the route like the back of my hand. I turn on the right streets. I stick to the speed limits. The closer we get to Fox Lane, the more my heartbeat accelerates. The saliva in my throat turns to glue. My hands get clammy. He’s not in this area of Riverdale, I can feel the absence, but it still leaves me agitated. I make the left onto the street. I lift my foot off from the gas pedal and hover it over the brake. I go down the street at a turtle’s pace. The houses that stood when I walked down this street years ago still stand. They look empty, I guess people moved out. Leaves whirl in the air like tumbleweeds. This emptiness lends to the eerie, nostalgic atmosphere. It gives me the creeps. I look out ahead of me, and my heart stops.

The abandoned Conway House stands out in the middle of the street. Nothing’s changed about it. The house hasn’t lost its two-story structure, but the white paint on the exterior is fading. The wood is starting to chip away. Whatever Hal has been doing in that house for the past 25 years, it makes the house from _The Amityville Horror_ look pleasant and innocent. The car comes to a stop outside the house. From inside my vehicle, I can pick up the energy from this house….well, the lack of energy. I realize that I can’t feel anything radiate from this house.

Grasping the keys in my hands, I step out of the car. The wind hits me, leaves dance across my feet. A dread builds up in me. The memories of this house seep into my brain. I can vividly see myself walking up these steps for the first time in 1992. I can recall the feeble architecture of the house’s interior. I remember the dark energy I felt when I lured Hal back in and trapped him here. The house no longer holds that energy, but there’s something else I sense. Another vibe that trickles into my blood. Someone has been here alright. And this person wasn’t alone.

Hiram joins my side and clutches his bag. He picks up on my blank state. “Are you going to be okay?” I stay staring at the house, not acknowledging his question right off the bat. I hear the spells I chanted to bind Hal to this house. It booms in my ear drums. His yelling and my screaming echo. I have to shut my eyes to calm myself down. My heartbeat slows. Time to put on my big girl pants.

“Let’s get this over with.” I march up the steps. I concentrate on the sound of my heels clicking on the concrete to ease the thoughts racing through my head. The breeze increases the higher up I go. The light from the outside world fades when I step onto the porch. The floorboard creaks underneath me. I stop, glancing up at the rotting wood overhead. I move my eyes downward to the door. I was in this position so many years ago, but under a different circumstance. My mouth opens slightly as I exhale through gritted teeth. I reach my hand out to the door. With the tips of my fingers, I force the door to creak open.

I expect something to pop out, to attack me and Hiram. But nothing waits for us on the other side. I hesitate for a moment, waiting on the porch, unsure of whether or not to enter this pit of darkness. A lump forms in my throat, and I have to force it down. _It’s alright, Alice_, a calming voice tells my head. I can’t tell if it’s Hiram communicating with me telepathically, or if it’s my own voice. My hands make little fists, I force them to unclench. _It’s okay, It’s okay, It’s okay_….

I step in to the other side. The house is still just as empty and cold as it was on Halloween Night in 1992. It’s not as dark with some of the outside light peaking through the boarded up windows. The feeling of darkness is absent. It’s a different atmosphere this time, one I will have to get used to. I glance around, everything about this house is still the same. I run my fingertips along the walls, taking in the sensation. Something creaks by the front door. Out of instinct and fear, I turn, only to find Hiram entering the house. He leaves the door open as he starts to look around himself. I leave him to examine the house on his own, and I eventually find my way to the living room. The sound of my footsteps echoes along the walls. The air is musty and mold is forming in the smallest corners of the room. Light enters through what is visible of the window. It reflects down onto the floor. I follow my sight to where it glows. My face falls.

The symbols I drew on the floorboards are still here. Somebody’s drawn over them, the dust starting to settle on the new marks. I kneel down. My hand hovers over the dust. Part of me wants to wipe it away. To scrub this house from head to toe to rid it of its evil, of Hal. To burn it to the ground so no one would ever step foot through here ever again.

“So this is where the summoning took place?” Hiram enters the living room. He kneels down beside me and squints at the symbols created out of the dust. I can’t tell if he’s having trouble seeing the symbols, so I go to stand up and use some magic to remove the boards from the windows. “Don’t.” Hiram reaches for my arm. I freeze then lower back down. He takes off the bag that he’s been carrying and reaches in. He pulls out a hand-crank lantern and sets it down on the ground. He turns the hand at lightning speed, a strong warm light appears. It illuminates only part of the room, but it will do. He starts to empty out the contents in his bag.

I tilt my head at these items. “What the hell is all of this?”

“Divination tools, amongst what I brought with me - here, hold this.” he hands me a giant book. I examine the cover….Is this Hiram’s Grimoire? He begins to organize what he brought - an athame, a pendulum, a bell, some sage, dowsing rods. Did he seriously pack his whole witchcraft tool kit? “If we can discover any traces of what kind of witch came through this house, we might have an easier time tracking down where your familiar could have ended up.”

I peel back the cover of this book. There’s a picture on the front page with the book’s title in Latin. A couple of sigils are drawn on, for reasons I don’t know. Yet, something else on this page captures my attention. Someone signed their name in this book, but it’s not Hiram’s. Is this a book he’s taken or is borrowing? I run my fingers along the ink, reading the name. The book belongs...or it did belong….to someone named Jaime Luna.

“There should be a section in there about how to recall the traces of any person, witch or mortal, if you flip through. Should be around the middle.” Hiram instructs me, snapping out of my faze. I open the book and scour through the pages until I find the section he brought up. I lay the book down between us, making sure to not place it on top of the dust drawing. He takes off his jacket and sets it down next to me so he can maneuver his arms easier with the dowsing rods. He holds both rods in one hand while skimming the text with the other. I still have no idea what this would even result in for us. What kind of divination practice is this?

Out of boredom, I glance around the living room while I wait for him to finish. “Hal was the only spirit in this house. Don’t know if you’ll have much luck conjuring any new buddies on the other side.”

“That’s why I brought these tools along. Standard procedure.”

“Standard….” I turn back to him, raising my brow in the process. “Is this what they were teaching you at the Academy of Unseen Arts?” He doesn’t answer the question. To be fair, I’m not exactly sure what those young witches learn at the Academy - I have very little insight from what Sabrina has relayed to me via her Aunts. I’m guessing it’s like the American version of Hogwarts but without the friendly atmosphere and house rivalry. And without a creepy snake dude trying to terrorize the children every year. But again, I have no interest in whatever kind of kool aid the Church of Night is feeding those children, so I don’t trust Hilda and Zelda’s praise. Even Hiram’s knack for this type of divination comes off sketchy. Still, I have to wonder…..

“Must have really been bored by the mortal classes at Riverdale High, then.”

He stops what he’s doing and looks at me. He smirks, “Careful casting stones there, Acid Queen Alice. I came to Riverdale High out of my own choosing, not because I was forced to.” I want to clamp my mouth shut but it hangs slightly. Mostly because….well, I’m shocked. Hiram must have had a whirlwind of opportunities at his feet at the Academy….why would he waste the last of his witch youth at a mortal school? He sets down the rods and and glances at the book. I can’t tell if he’s tongue tied or caught in another thought. He looks back up at me. There’s a nostalgic glimmer in his eyes.

Hiram explains, “My mother grew up in Riverdale. She was one of the best _brujas_ I’ve seen. She always told me stories about her time there, and she’d always try to convince me that if I had a chance before my Dark Baptism, I should go….she didn’t make it to see me baptize into the Church. And by that point, I was so far ahead in my studies at the Academy that….that I wanted to fulfill her wish and go. Just to see what she had raved about for all those years.”

He goes quiet. The silence adds to the eerie atmosphere of this house. I didn’t know he ever had roots here. I didn’t know he had a close relationship with his mother. In high school, he always seemed to praise his family as a whole or just his father. Now that I think about it, I don’t think he ever brought up his family from what I overheard from his conversations with other classmates. It makes me realize that he was only putting on a show to cover up his true emotions. He was hiding something that could be used against him if people found out. In a way….Hiram was just like me.

I can see a sliver of a grin form on his face. “Also…..I just wanted the chance to take AP Literature.” The little comment tempts me to cackle. No wonder he named his familiar after a poet and dressed up as Gatsby for Halloween. It actually does make sense now - AP Literature was the only class I had shared with Hiram back in the day. The pieces click together in my head. He notices my failure to compose myself. “What? I happen to have quite a penchant for mortal literature and poetry! I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.”

“Alright then, Manhattan.” I slide the book closer to him. I start to point at the figures, “Why don’t you use your bookworm powers to explain what this page wants us to do.” He takes the book into his hands. He examines the contents for a moment before rotating it to me.

“It wants us to clear our the energy of the room so we can narrow down what, or who, exactly came through here. In other words, we need to cleanse the heavens out of this house.” I lean in and squint at the page. Okay now it starts to make sense. But what part of this house needs cleansing? Hal was the only spirit residing in the house…. Unless….there’s others…..

I gesture for one of the bundles of sage. “I’ll go clear out the upstairs.” He hands one to me, and I use some pyrokinesis to get this bundle lit and going. I manage to get up, the smell of sage more potent the closer it is to me, then I make my way up the staircase, to the upstairs.

Mold has formed on the upper corners of the hallway. It’s so empty and quiet up here. I almost forgot the upper half of this house existed - I don’t want to think about what Hal could have preoccupied himself with in this floor during the 25 year period. I begin my smudging, waving the sage bundle in a figure-8, moving slowly down the long hallway. I make sure to go through each of the bedrooms, just in case. There’s no bad auras I sense, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I end up in the children’s bedroom. The toy box sits untouched, rooted to the floorboards and covered in dust. No spirit resides here, but the laughter of the Conway children vibrates through my eardrums. The screaming for help when the Reaper shot them dead turns my stomach into knots.

After a while, the smoke clears out and I head back down stairs. I rejoin Hiram by the symbols on the ground and place my sage bundle down to the side. He holds the rods in his hands, flipping through the book until he finds the next section for our practice. It’s how we need to use the rods to make contact with whatever spirits we summon.

“You need me to give you a Dowsing Rods 101 crash course?” he picks up on my confusion. I huff.

“I know how they work.” I defend myself, letting out a deep sigh. “I just….don’t use them. The only divination I can do is tarot cards and palm readings. Even then, I make up half of the readings.” He’s stunned by my answer, he has to force himself from scoffing. I roll my eyes, “Look, the real reading is either too morbid or too bland for my customers to fully grasp. And….I don’t want them to turn out like assholes to others. That’s why I do it.” I’m a little embarrassed now that I’m owning up to my fraudulent business. But Hiram doesn’t judge me. He simply grins.

“At least you get them to come to your bakery afterwards, along with the common folk who only want your sweets.” Another compliment? From Hiram? Did someone put a love cognition spell on him? With one smooth movement, he hands the rods over to me. “You want to do the honors?”

The rods are cold in my hands. I twist on them nervously, waiting for instruction. He traces the words on the page with one finger. The air goes in and out of his nose. He speaks.

“Spirits below and above, spirits in between, caught in the fabric betwixt worlds, we ask that the veil be lifted and that you send forth any spirit residing in Fox Lane. Spirits of this residence, you're welcome to this house, to this circle. If you're here, we ask that you make your presence known.”

We wait. Nothing unusual occurs. No signs of any lost spirits. Wind gushes through the cracks of the boards. Something should have presented an aura to me by now. I gulp. I give a crack at the summoning.

“Spirits….hi. Um…” Hiram raises a brow at my informal summoning. I ignore him and continue, “if there is anything here, can you make yourself known? Please?” Stillness. Creaking. This better not take all day. I clear my throat, “Can you at least indicate what a “yes” answer means, using these rods in my hands?” I shut up and wait for any signs. Nothing. Hiram and I look at each other. I’m growing impatient, and he can tell.

Then, a chill goes down my spine. The rods rotate in my hold. Something’s here. It moves the rods to point towards my right. I smile. Hiram follows up, “Can you indicate what a “no” means?” I readjust the rods as he speaks. We wait, then the rods shift left, towards him. His mood lightens as well. I shift the rods back to center, prepping myself for the next series of questions. This could go either really well, or we’re back to square one. Regardless, we have contact.

“Was there a presence in this house?” A moment goes by. Then another. The rods go right. Back to center. “Was this….a good presence?” They go left. I face Hiram and mouth, Hal.

He goes forth with the next question, “Does this malevolent spirit live in this house now?” Left. “Did it leave on its own?” Left again. Just what we figured - Hal got released by an outside source.

I hesitate before asking, “Was it a mortal that released this spirit?” Also what I feared. The rods slide left. My heart falls into my lap. My eyes remain open, but I stop focusing on the rods, I’m fazing out. I struggle to breathe properly. My hands become clammy. My grip tightens on the rods.

Hiram calls out, “Was there more than witch in this house when this spirit was released?” I feel nothing in my hands. Then, the rods twist right.

Fear settles in. The activity of the rods dies out, but the wheels in my head are spinning out of my control. Images play in my head. Voices scream in my ears. I hear him. He’s saying someone’s name…..I don’t know if he’s calling for Sabrina, or if….if he’s calling for me. Teen Alice screams…...a chant. A spell. It’s my voice yelling over his, it’s my voice repeating the same words over and over, until I’m screaming, until my voice gives out. It’s my voice chanting the binding spell.

_TURPIS ET INFERNIS IN TERRIS PARIUNT. ADIURO VOS TAMEN HOC GRAECAS MUNUS._

The rods slip from my hands. They land on the ground with a clank. The book closes on its own. The light from the lantern goes out. One of the boards covering the windows cracks. I’m shaking. There’s a ring in my ears from my internal high-pitched scream. I can’t breathe.

“Alice?” Hiram places a hand on my shoulder. My chest rises and falls. My throat shrinks. My fingers twitch. I’m numb, but I feel everything. I want to cry. I want to move, but I can’t. “Alice….” Hiram grabs for the rods, the sage, and the book. He shoves all of his material back into the bag he brought. He slings the bag over him, then, with gracious care, he rests one hand under my elbow, the other on my back. He helps me stand, I wobble on the way up. I lean up against the wall to stay upright. Hiram takes a baby step towards me, his face gives away his concern. I inhale and exhale sharply, my nostrils sting. Oh no, am I going to get another nose bleed?

He glances down at his elbow. Then, he lifts his forearm up to me. “Would fresh air help?” I stand there, frozen. I try to convince myself that I’m fine. I don’t need his help now. I can stay here and finish out the divination. But I’m still shaking and having a hard time breathing, and the more I sit here and have this debate with myself, the more that I realize I don’t want to be in this place anymore. I step away from the wall and reach for him. Then we make our way out of the house.

We decide to pace the street for a while until I can breathe normally again. Most of the leaves on these trees have fallen or are starting to fall off. It’s a mirage of red, orange, and grey everywhere I look. My breath forms a cloud from the cold temperature. My teeth chatter. Whether I want to admit it or not, it’s that cold that I’m still clinging onto Hiram for warmth. My heartbeat pulses in my eardrums, but it’s starting to slow down. I huff out another breath cloud. I wonder when it will start to snow.

“Has this happened to you before, Alice?” It takes me a second to register the words coming out of his mouth. I stop examining the fall foliage and turn to him. He clarifies, “Have these…..attacks happened in the past? Where you….” He stops, fumbling around for words, but it’s obvious - have I experienced these anxiety attacks before. My gaze drifts…. When was the last time I went through one of those attacks? I mentally go through the recent years…. Halloween. Sabrina’s birthday. That Smiths song Ambrose played. My shoulders tense up. It’s the only instance I can think of that occurred recently, but besides that, I never panicked as drastically as I did before….

“It’s only while I’ve been in Riverdale.” A projector reel plays in my head - the deer and the seizure. The soccer game. Pop’s. Last night at Lenny’s. These attacks and moments of sickness have only happened in Riverdale. Long before Hal came out of that house. “Something gets brought up, or…..someone I know….knew….my nerves just flare up.” I start to chew on my bottom lip. I hate admitting to other people about this stuff. I hate this perpetual anxiety that’s surrounded my whole time here in Riverdale. It was already hard enough telling Gladys the truth, and it will be again for Sabrina. Even FP. I guess I just wasn’t expecting my next willing ear to be a man who bought drugs from me in high school. But Hiram doesn’t act judging, nor does he write me off as a madwoman. He’s more concerned, more….aware. What other reason would explain him picking up on….

“And the nosebleeds? Were those recent too?” The mention of it makes my nose twitch. I reach for the rings on my fingers and fidget with them. He blinks, then phrases his next sentence steadily, “Alice, you’re the first witch I’ve known that has suffered from that…..intense level of sickness.”

I huff. Is it even worth owning up to what I think causes my sickness? Normally, I’d say no, just play things by ear. But I’m in this contract now….. Would he know of a way to diagnose this? Would he know how to help me? I tell him, “In case you were wondering, NO. I didn’t contract anything from anyone. I only get that sick if I go overboard with my craft.” He doesn’t get it, and it shows on his face. I simplify, “If I exceed the amount of magic I can conjure. I prefer to use simple magic for that reason. When I go too hard, my body reacts…..quite violently. So I try to avoid extreme dark magic whenever possible. The only few times I did were when I left Riverdale, post-memory removal spell, and when….” I trail off, meeting his gaze. I have to look away, stare down at my feet as we walk. A voice in my subconscious finishes, **_And when you confronted me at Pop’s_**.

I handled that night so poorly, and I realize that now. Yes, he cornered me, he revealed his memory of me and it made me panic…..but what I did, how I reacted, it was uncalled for. I could have killed him. I could have destroyed Pop’s. I would have ruined everything for Sabrina, and even for myself. It was a moment of unchecked rage, and I need to own up to it. Especially since Hiram is helping me, on his own accord. He’s shown nothing but kindness to Sabrina.

I quicken my pace so I can step in front of him. I grab a hold of his biceps and take a shaky breath. My lips press together as I move my eyesight up to him. How do I even begin to apologize? I take it slow, “I…..I’m sorry for what I did to you that night. It was violent, and so, so stupid. Yeah, I was angry, but it didn’t give me a right to lash out like that. I was a bitch.” It’s simple but it gets my point across. He stares at me sombersome, I don’t know if it’s a good thing or something bad. I go on rambling, “I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything for me. I…..I just needed you to know….know that….”

“You’re not forcing me to do any of this, Alice. The choice was purely on my own accord, by my own reasoning.” he cuts in. My mouth hangs. I let go of one of his arms, recoiling my arm back down to my side. He sighs, “I admit I didn’t handle that situation well, either…..I don’t think I handled any of our prior interactions---”

“It shouldn’t have excused me from almost killing you!” My voice comes off more booming than I expected. I pull my other hand back in and cross my arms. It’s not comfortable, so I run my fingers through my hair. My cheeks become heated. Water forms in the corners of my eyes. No, I can’t break down yet. _Daisies and candles, Alice. Come on, breathe_. My hands lower to my sides. I look up at Hiram, “I made a mistake, and it almost cost your life. It cost our classmates their lives, and…..and now, this situation is costing Sabrina and Veronica their lives.” I ramble, not sure whether I’m talking about 25 years ago or now. His face is still neutral. His eyes….they grow to be more sympathetic. I want to stop talking, to just recollect myself, but my mouth keeps running. Why can’t I just get my point across? Wasn’t I in a similar situation…..

_You don’t understand what I’ve done…..you don’t understand what I’m responsible for…._

I eventually run out of words, out of excuses to explain my actions, and clamp my mouth shut. My throat aches. My eyes are stinging, ready to release tears. Then, Hiram reaches out and holds onto my face with one hand. His neutral expression is now replaced with one of remorse. Sincerity. He pulls me into him and hugs me.

I’m shaken. Hiram Lodge is hugging me? He’s caring for me when I don’t even think I deserve it? I don’t know how to respond, I just start sobbing. I wind up burying my face into the crook of his shoulder and wrap my arms around him. It’s a touch I’m so not used to, but it’s one that I need. The anxious flare doesn’t disappear entirely, but this hugs at least eases it to a degree.

We stay like this for a bit. It’s warmth to combat this cold weather. It's a comfort to calm my fragile state. I lift my face from his shoulder, struggling to breathe from my nostrils, and he places his hand under my chin. His gaze wanders down to the ground before moving back up to meet mine. “You don’t need to apologize to me for what happened. If you think you need to, then I forgive you. And I won’t break our contract. That’s my promise to you, okay?” A hot tear streams down one of my cheeks. I wipe it away, then nod before returning my forehead to his shoulder. I might need to get used to this gesture.

I hear him huff as he glances around Fox Lane. “Not to ask another detrimenting question, but….I’m curious. How would that demon of yours manage to survive out here? I don’t think any of these house have been inhabited since the days of the Reaper.” I don’t register his words right away, but…. Wait. Not since the Reaper.

My eyes snap open. My lips part. I lean away from him, a realization hitting me. Hiram notices my state, tilting his head at me. “Alice? What, what is it?” I back away and turn to the houses on the street. Not since the Reaper, not since the Reaper….. But when?

I snap my fingers and turn my head to him. “When did those Reaper murders happen?”

“1967, I think?” he sounds confused. 1967….it’s 2017 so it’s been a good 50 years. And no one’s been here until now? Well, except for Hal. And except for me, but that was back in….. 1992.

Unholy shit. 1992. That’s 25 years ago, and it’s 25 years after 1967. I don’t think Hal ever told me what led him to end up near the Conway House, or why he hadn’t left before I showed up….. Something must have held him there. Maybe it has to…..

My energy levels bounce. I fully face Hiram and grab onto his arms. “Hal was in that house when I released him. That can’t be a coincidence, Hiram. Hal has to have some connection to those murders. Have you read _It_?” He just stares at me, unresponsive. I roll my eyes and clarify, “Stephen King novel? Gross sewer alien-clown that eats children? They came out with a remake in theaters this year?”

“What does that…..” he tries to testify, then he pauses. It hits him too. His eyes go wide. “_It_ waits every 27 years to attack.” Bingo. I let go of him and slam my hands together in excitement.

“Well, Riverdale might just have its own Pennywise that pops up every 25. Think about it - the Reaper kills in ‘67. I take Hal away from that house and go after our classmates in ‘92. And now…..it’s 2017…..”

“He’s prone to attack again.” he mutters. I smile. We might have just found our pattern. We need to get on top of this. Find any research we can. We have our jump start.

“Not if we stop him.” In a rush of adrenaline, I grab Hiram’s hand and march back down where we came, back to my car. “We gotta dig up whatever we can on the Reaper. If there’s anything odd from that time, it could explain why Hal was there. It can get us to him!”

“You think the library could have something?”

“Not sure about the witch side of it, but the town would have to have recorded something!”

“Okay, then. When we get back to town, we’ll need to pull whatever we can, then we’ll go back to Pembrooke. I’ll see if I have any resources at home that could render themselves useful.” We both jump back into the car, not determined with our plan, and I drive away.

I speed through Fox Lane. I make the right out of the street, heading back the way we came. I pull back onto the small highway that leads back into town, back towards Pop’s. I’m flying down this road. I now have a clear idea of where Hiram and I need to begin. Maybe going to the Conway House did bring some good. I feel much more lighthearted. More confident. More….

Something’s blocking the road. No, someone is. A group of people in police uniforms are. I’m forced to slow down. What’s the hold up? I glance over at Hiram, and he returned a similar look of skepticism. I slow the car to a stop. I turn off the ignition. Outside, Keller emerges from the forest, sighting my vehicle. I step out, the cold air hitting me once more. Keller sees me and heads in my direction.

“Miss Beauchamp, you might want to head back the other way.” Keller greets me. Hiram gets out too, still unsure of what is causing this blockage.

“You want to explain this, Tom?” The sheriff turns to the source of the question. His face falls. He’s not thrilled to see Hiram here. This isn’t good.

“You have a reason for being out here at this hour, Hiram? Aren’t you usually hiding out in Pembrooke?”

I step in to diffuse the situation. “It’s alright, he was with me.” Tom cools his stances, but he isn’t pleased with my answer. Behind him, officers are holding back reporters trying to shove cameras into their faces. There’s caution tape wrapped around the trees. There’s an EMS truck. Did someone get hurt out here in the woods? Did…..oh no, did someone die?

I move away from Hiram and Tom, heading closer to the scene. The two continue to bicker behind me, paying no mind to where I’m heading. Some of the crowd give me a startled look. They know I shouldn’t be here, but they don’t have the guts to call me out on it. A sharp sense of…..something, I don’t know what, roots in me. It turns my stomach to knots. It makes my senses go haywire. This…..whatever this is I’m feeling…..it’s almost like what I felt last night, minus the weird visions. But the feeling intensifies the closer I come to whatever these officers are crowded over. I stop just only a few feet away to give everyone their space. I peer around the area…...my eyes eventually go to the ground. My back straightens. My breathing tenses. Something builds up in my throat. I cover my mouth. Panic sets in.

On the ground, in a body bag, is the boy that I saw in the pool last night…..well, what remains intact and unripped of that boy.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

The town is awfully quiet this morning. I decided to depart from Pembrooke so I can head back to the trailer park and check in on Ali. V attempted to convince me to stay over for breakfast, and believe me, I was tempted to hold off on my leave. I told her that I would keep tabs on her throughout the day, maybe even come over for a little bit tomorrow. Maybe I can talk with Ali and see if we can spend Thanksgiving with V and Mister Lodge, or go Black Friday shopping together.

I grab a hot chocolate from the coffee shop downtown and slowly make my way down the streets. I would have opted to have one of the chauffers at Pembrooke drive me, especially since it’s so cold out, but I still have so much of Riverdale to see. I want to take it all in before I have to go back to face my fate in Greendale.

I stick to the path that Jughead and I went down when we headed to town to research about the Riverdale Reaper just days prior. I come down near the town’s graveyard, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. I have a little time, I don’t have any pressure to head back to the trailer park right away, so I decide to walk through. Leaves crunch under my feet. The ground is a mix of green grass and marble stone. There’s a few tombstones that have flowers resting against them. The rows go on and on…..the silence contributes to this bleak atmosphere.

Something rustles in the trees above me. I stop, checking my surroundings. The noise stops. Finding nothing, I continue on my path. I leave through the gate at the back, the rustling picks up again. I whip around in a frenzy. “Who’s there?” I call out. There’s no footsteps behind me, no visible shape follows my path…..but something is watching me. Something is waiting. The noise builds in the trees near by. I clutch onto my hot chocolate, mentally preparing a spell to defend myself….. A figure appears from the trees, meowing. I release the tension and smile in relief. Salem lands on the ground and looks up at me. He’s covered in leaves and dirt, but he doesn’t look injured.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over town for you!” he chirps up at me. I crouch down, placing my drink on the pavement, and pull my familiar into my arms.

“Salem! Oh, thank Lucifer you’re okay! I thought something happened to you!”

“Well, I’m here now, so you have no need to worry, Miss Spellman.” I giggle and release Salem down to the pavement. I brush some of the leaves off his fur before reclaiming my hot chocolate and standing back up. Salem looks so happy to see me now, and I him…..but last night. Where did he go? Why didn’t he come back to Pembrooke? And….and what did he do to Chuck?

“What happened to Chuck?”

“Oh, him?” Salem starts to lick one of his paws. “You and Veronica won’t have to worry about him anymore. I took care of everything.” I stand there with no response. Everything meaning what exactly? Torturing him more? Playing more tricks? Even….. Oh no. Is it possible that Salem killed Chuck? Maybe, but I don’t want to consider it as an option. Not with what V experienced last night.

Salem perches up on his hindlegs and starts to trot down the street, heading where I’m about to go. “Aren’t we going back home? Unless we’re spending the afternoon with Veronica.” I go to open my mouth, then I clamp it shut. I should be getting back - I don’t want Ali to start worrying for my safety, or Mister Lodge for V’s.

“Right!” I hustle to join my familiar, and we make our way back to the trailer park. The walk back does not produce much between us - I figure Salem would ask more about my life in Greendale, if I have any plans for Thanksgiving. But he remains quiet, prancing along the sidewalk in his content state. I contemplate whether to get into the specifics about last night with him, about what exactly he did do to complete our revenge plan. But I’m still so drained, this hot chocolate while warming and delicious is not doing much to keep me awake. And…..and I might need a shower. I want to wash the night off of me, since I never got a chance upon returning with V to Pembrooke. Hopefully I can make the time before engaging in any type of conversation with Ali.

We arrive at the trailer park, after 25 minutes of freezing, unsettling tranquility. I finish the last of my beverage and toss the empty cup into the trashcan outside our trailer. Salem trots up the steps, and I’m about to join him when I look out at the driveway. The car isn’t sitting there. Did Ali leave? Maybe she’s at work….but I thought she worked afternoons? I decide to ignore the confusing notion and begin to make my way up the steps, pulling my keys out of my coatpocket. I go to unlock the door.

“Sabrina!” a voice yells from behind. I stop what I’m doing, a bit startled. I move down a couple of steps to look out at the park around me. Then, I see Jughead jogging over to me and stopping at the bottom of the stairs. He grabs onto the handrail as he catches his breath. I stay in my place not sure of what to make of his sudden appearance. He finally forms words, “Is your Aunt…..person here?”

“No….I just got back. Why?”

“You…..” he speaks in between pants, “You need to…..something came up on the news.”

“Sabrina…..” Salem growls at my feet. I’m intrigued…..and a bit frightened. What could be on the news that sparked Jughead to run over to see if I was here? I unlock the door and tell Salem to go inside, that I will be back in a few minutes. He tries to fuss and fight back, but I shoo him inside. I close the door and lock it before I make my way down the steps to meet Jughead.

“What thing?” Jughead lets go of the handrail. He readjusts the grey beanie on his head. His hands are shaking.

“It’s Chuck Clayton. They…..the police…..they found his…..a…..” he stumbles on his words. I’m frozen and internally freaking out. What did the police find? What does this have to do with Chuck? I do wish he could just get to the point.

“He’s dead.”

Sirens blare in my head. My arms shake in my still state. My eyes bulge. Chuck…..Chuck is dead? But he was alive when V and I left…..but, oh no but Salem. He couldn’t have possibly done anything to Chuck, could he? Did he? _I took care of everything_.

“Come on!” Jughead grabs my hand and leads us back to his trailer. He’s running so fast, I almost fall over and trip over branches and twigs. He guides me up the steps, pushes open his front door, pulls me into his trailer. In the living room, Jughead’s father and his little sister sit on the couch, mesmerized in horror by what’s playing on the television. Jughead takes me to the couch and sits me down next to his sister. “Dad, turn the volume up!”

I have so many questions. Where did they find Chuck? How long has he been dead for? Does anyone know that V and I went to see him last night? Does V know about this? Does Ali know? Salem, what did you do?

The volume goes up on the TV. Jughead moves to stand next to his father. His little sister shifts uncomfortably on the couch, clutching onto a pillow. Sound blares out, but I can barely string the sentences together. I can only hang on to certain details. He was found by the edge Fox Forest by a pair of runners. Some body parts are missing. His face has been shredded. The police don’t know what could have caused it, but they suspect that his death wasn’t done by anything human. I could scream. I could cry. Chuck is dead, and….and I don’t know whether I should act proud or if I’m guilty. I think Chuck should have been kicked off the football team, suspended or even expelled from school, forced to partake in community service….but was him dying worth it? Did V and I do the right…..

I feel dizzy all of a sudden. A lump forms in my throat, migrating upward. My eyes water. Something trickles down the area between my nose and my mouth. I bring a finger to that area under my nose and am shocked to make contact with…..blood. There’s blood on my finger. There’s blood coming out of my nose. I make an attempt to stand up. The dizziness gets worse. I collapse back onto the couch, more blood trickles down. It causes Jughead’s sister to stare at me. Her mouth flies open. “Dad?”

Mister Jones turns to me to see what his daughter could be so worried about. He tenses up, then he hurries over to me and kneels down. “Boy, get a damp cloth!” he commands Jughead as he takes a gentle hold of my head. His daughter jumps up from the couch and stares at me in panic. He turns to the girl, “JB, go grab some water. Go!” The young Jones girl scurries off, not taking her eyes off me. Mister Jones addresses me softly, “You’re alright, Sabrina. Just hold still for me.” I attempt to open my mouth, a wave of nausea hits me. I could vomit right here, it takes all of my strength, and every bit of nonverbal magic, to keep it together. Out of the corner of my eye, Jughead rushes over to his father and hands him some cloth. Mister Jones mutters something to him, I’m not sure what, I can’t process anything with this sudden feeling of sickness. Jughead disappears again, Mister Jones brings the cloth to my nose. It’s wet, but it does enough to clean me up. He wipes up that area in smooth strokes, and when there’s no more blood….

He looks at me. He blinks in between periods of just looking at me. Just like the night Ali and I came to Riverdale. “Mister Jones?” I hear my own voice croak. His gaze goes distant, his hand holding the bloodied cloth shakens. His chin tilts up. His face falls. “Mister Jones?”

He doesn’t look at me anymore. Something’s caught his attention…..not anything near me, but…..a thought. Something in his subconscious. He mutters, “Alice used to have nose bleeds.”

I don’t understand the comment. I don’t know how he would…..maybe when they were teenagers. But it seems like Mister Jones didn’t remember that fact…..until now. With me. Does Mister Jones know about Ali’s magic? What caused her to leave Riverdale? Maybe….then him coming to this realization makes no sense. I know 25 years is a stretch, but Ali’s friendship with Jughead’s father was that crucial, that important in her youth, it would have been important to him too. Then what sparked this….

Jughead’s sister returns with a small glass of water and hands it over to me. I thank her with a weak voice before gulping the whole thing down. Mister Jones lets go of my head, leaving me the cloth to stay near my nose. He stands up, he still appears so much in a daze by my sudden accident. He backs away and glances around the living room. The news still plays in the background, but the reporters are no longer as focused on Chuck’s mysterious death.

Jughead rests up against the arm of the couch. “You feeling better, new girl?” I watch his father going about his slowed down pacing. I rise up from the couch, lowering the cloth from my nose.

“Is your dad okay?”

“No clue….” Jughead moves to my side and calls out to his dad. Mister Jones snaps out of his daze. He blinks a couple of times, trying to bring himself back to reality. Something about his eyes causes me to squint at him. His eyes are all misty.

“Sorry, boy….Sabrina…..I don’t know how I remember that. Or why.” He glances away from us and towards the television. He shakes his head, still somewhat in his funk, and moves to turn it off. He rests his hands on top of the television set, his fingers patter on the rim. “You know, it’s funny, or strange, really…..” Mister Jones straightens up and backs away from the stand. He speaks to me, “Your, uh….Alice, the more I start to think about it…..I think she had those,” he can’t come up with the words, so he scratches at his nose. It’s simple, but I get the message. He continues, “yeah, those when….people died.”

Jughead and I exchange a look. His mouth and eyes widen, and so do mine. He turns back to his dead.

“Wait…..what people? Who died?”

“Just, classmates. That’s all!” Mister Jones brings his fingers up to his eyebrows. He massages them to get himself to calm down, or to think better. I take a step closer. I’m curious now.

“That’s awful. What happened to them? Do you….” I don’t finish my sentence. Mister Jones releases his hand and goes to open his mouth. He sees my expression, his face mellows. He moves back over to the couch and sits down.

“It’s complicated, Sabrina. The details are just so…..fuzzy in my head. But yeah…..some people I went to high school with all died due to…...odd circumstances. Like that Chuck kid on TV.”

“Why, were they all attacked by bears or of that species?” Jughead throws out sarcastically. His father scoffs at him.

“No, it was….” he struggles to recollect the details. Eventually, he gives up and waves his hand at Jughead in frustration. My head goes through a series of possibilities - anything and everything including alcohol overdoses, car crashes, natural disasters, even a serial killer----

I freeze on that thought. A serial killer. Is it….no, they couldn’t have died from someone that was like the Riverdale Reaper. Unless….. I would approach Mister Jones. I would ask him about it. But what if he told Ali afterwards? And what if they both start asking questions? I want more information, but it might be too risky. So instead, I set my cloth down on the coffee table and ask, “Mister Jones, when did these murders take place?”

He blinks. He looks away for a moment, looking as if he’s trying to formulate an answer for me, then he returns his gaze back upward. He sighs, “High school? Oh….you want specifics? I, um….probably towards the end. Before I finished up, and…..wound up in this dump. Sorry, Sabrina. I don’t mean to sound so….unhelpful for you. And…..” He stops talking again. He starts to stare, not in a creepy way, but in a way that’s more nostalgic. More melacholic. He gave me that same look when he saw Ali for the first time that night…..in a long time.

“I swear you look so much like her.” he laughs nervously, “Look, I know you’re not blood-related to Alice, but….that night you showed up, you….it kinda spooked me. The….” he snaps his fingers in a hope of finding the right words, “the freak chance that you happen to share her features. And seeing her…...I thought I was going crazy. I thought she was just a figment of my imagination….like I was the only one who knew her…..and no one else did. For the longest time, it felt like my mind was playing tricks, or just….I blacked out or something.”

“Why do you say that, Dad?” Jughead comes to my side, crossing his arms. It takes a second for Mister Jones to answer, his eyes still glued on me.

“I don’t remember anything about the first half of senior year. It’s like my brain got wiped out or something….”

Got wiped out. That sentence sits with me funny. Not in a good way. And I…. My knees could turn to jelly. My nose has that itch. I swear it could start bleeding again. My vision blurs. I almost tumble over, but Jughead catches me before I go down. He leads me back over to the couch, sits me down again. I tell him I’m fine, over and over. But I don’t feel fine, at least not a hundred percent. What did Mister Jones mean by wiped out? What went down his senior year when those kids died? And what would any of it have to do with Ali?

Mister Jones rises. “Maybe some food might help. You want anything in particular, or are you okay with toast and eggs?”

“That’s fine with me.” I give him a small smile. He says he’ll have it ready in a few minutes, then he wanders off into the kitchen. The moment he clears out, Jughead sits down next to me.

He leans in close and mutters, “Don’t rule me out, but I’ve got a hunch.” I’m curious. I shift on the couch so I’m facing him full on. Jughead continues, “Doesn’t it seem a bit….odd to you that Chuck Clayton happens to die around the same time of the Reaper murders 50 years ago?” My mouth opens slightly, then it goes shut. I will admit, it does seem odd, but I still can’t process the whole situation. I still can’t come to terms that Chuck died, and it may or may not be because of what V and I did to him. Or even what Salem did.

Jughead takes note of my expression. He loses a fracture of his keen excitement and relaxes. “Look, I didn’t have the highest opinion of Chuck either, and….I know that whatever he did to Veronica was horrible. Expulsion would have been nice. But death is…..quite extreme. Even if he did deserve it.” It’s almost like he’s speaking my mind. And I think I might have an idea of where he’s going with this conversation. I tuck some hair behind my ears before I whisper.

“You think this is a resurgence of the Reaper?”

“Maybe. Chuck probably did get mauled by an animal in the woods, but…..what led him there leaves open a ton of red flags. No one around here goes into Fox Forest at night.” I think of the possible scenarios in my head. Maybe Salem wasn’t what ripped Chuck to shreds. Maybe he just chased Chuck out and lost track of him. It gives me a little bit of hope, a little bit of trust in Salem.

But another thought lingers in the back of my head. Mister Jones said that some of his classmates died when he was younger. It makes me wonder….would those deaths somehow be connected to Chuck’s, if the Reaper really has returned, or is Chuck dying just years afterward all a coincidence?

“What about your dad’s friends?” I whisper to Jughead. “Does that bring up any red flags too?” He takes a second to ponder over my words. He taps his fingers on the top of the couch and shrugs.

“First time I’ve heard about it. My dad doesn’t really like to bring up high school all that often.” I tilt my head in confusion. Jughead shifts on the couch, one leg crossing over the other, intertwining his fingers. He explains in a low voice, “My grandfather, Forsyther Senior, he…..he wasn’t exactly what you would label as Father of the Year. He had a bad penchant for a drink…..he beat my dad a lot too. Come to think about it…..my grandfather was the primary reason my dad never went off to college, never left Riverdale. He’s why my dad wound up joining the Serpents.

My dad’s not like him. Sure, he had issues with alcohol for as long as I could remember….but he’s all cleaned up now. And he’s never laid a finger on me, or JB, or my mom. He wants us to go after life the way he never could. To go and care about getting a good education, finding what makes us happy…..” His voice dies out, a small smile forms on his face. My confusion dies out as well.

“Is that why you’re so into writing? And all this….demonology research?”

“It’s the only passion I’ve developed in life. People always are saying that I’m the smartest kid in class, always have straight A’s…..I don’t actually. I only really do well in English and Literature class…..just bullshitting my way through the rest. But demonology, conspiracy theories…..I can see myself pursuing a career in that. Hence why I revived the Blue and Gold at school - not that the school paper wasn’t dead, but it certainly was in worse for wear before I took over.”

I sit up straight and let my elbows rest onto my knee caps. “And now you have me to back up your research.” I state with a confident expression on my face. I glance back over at the television. Chuck’s death is far gone from the news hour, but it’s fresh in my brain. As is Salem’s unknown whereabouts from after V’s…..whatever it was that she went through. And now these kids Mister Jones mentioned has me thinking….

I turn back to Jughead. “Would you think your dad would have anything that could help with our article? If he can’t recall details from his own head, maybe something…..like, a book, or an object…..anything that can maybe recall details? Because, if those kids died of circumstances that matched Chuck’s…..”

“Then we might be seeing a pattern that can lead us to our killer.” Jughead catches onto my train of thought.

“SABRINA, YOUR FOOD’S READY!” Mister Jones calls out from the kitchen, breaking up our conversation. I yell back that I’ll be over in a minute, which is fine with him. Jughead taps on my arm.

“My family has a storage unit further out on the Southside. I have to go with my mom tomorrow anyways to grab some stuff for Thanksgiving, and to start pulling out Christmas decorations. I can see if my dad has anything shoved in there that can help us.”

“Neat.” I rise up from the couch, no longer having that wooziness from the nose bleed. Jughead and I head over to the kitchen and take a seat at the family’s small table. Mister Jones brings over my breakfast before he goes to make himself a cup of coffee. I start to dig in - it’s a simple breakfast, but it’s easy on my stomach so I’ll take it. I finish up my bite before muttering to Jughead, “I’ll keep looking through the books we found at the library. Some sort of clue has to scream out of those pages. And if you need me to go out with you and your mom tomorrow---”

“Don’t worry about it.” he waves it off. “I’m just relieved that you’ve been so willing to help out on this whole thing. It’s kind of comforting to see someone else just as psyched about what will fill the pages of the Blue and Gold.” I set my fork down, feeling just as relieved myself. Hanging out with Jughead reminds me of days back when I would help Roz or Susie with whatever campaign they held to have books brought into our reading curriculum at Baxter. It’s not polluted with worries of magic, or having to hide magic from people we love. Nothing about relationships either. Don’t get me wrong - I do appreciate helping V prepare for dates, or listening to Archie confess his crush on Josie McCoy, but so far I have yet to worry about those conversation with Jughead. Our friendship is purely a meeting of the minds, and frankly I need it.

“Exactly! It’s real stuff…..and not just, locker gossip. Or anything related to love.”

Jughead chuckles. “Yeah, well I’m aro-ace so consider yourself lucky.”

“The only thing this boy’s ever gonna love in this world…..” Mister Jones comes over to the table and claps his son on the back. “Is food. And whatever thriller novels he’s got himself stuffed into.”

“He’s got a point.” The comment makes us all laugh.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It’s intimidating sitting here in this interrogation room. I didn’t do anything wrong, Hiram and I were nowhere near Chuck Clayton’s body before the police unveiled the corpse. But Keller still dragged us to the police station anyway. I overheard him talking to the other officers, muttering about how he thinks Hiram somehow orchestrated it. There’s no evidence to prove so, and also it’s a waste of time to hold both of us here. Hiram was with me last night. I saw that boy’s death with…..some vision of whoever or whatever it was that killed him. I tap my fingers rapidly on the steel table. My reflection on the wall due to the double-sided mirror spooks me. It’s getting cold in here, and I’m tempting to use a spell to warm myself up.

The door opens. I whip my head to find Tom Keller walking in. Another officer follows behind him and shuts the door. This other man is younger, more leaner than Keller. The two come to join at the table, sitting across from me. Keller has a cup in his hands - is it meant for me? He sets the cup down and slides it over to me. “Don’t worry, it’s only hot chocolate. You look like you needed one.” Keller tells me. I peer into the cup, and….yeah, he's right. It’s hot chocolate, but of course it’s the instant version from one of those pouches. Oh well, I need something in my system, so I take the cup and bring the rim to my mouth. The drink burns my tongue a little at the first sip.

“Just to clear the air, Miss Beauchamp,” the younger officer starts off. He’s got a deep voice for someone so much younger. I listen to him, “we’re not holding you in for the death of Mr. Clayton. We only want to see how you’re feeling. I will admit, you looked a little shaken up when you saw the body earlier…..or what remained of the body.” A clump of cocoa mix sticks to my throat. My knuckles tense up. This young officer isn’t wrong - seeing the leftovers of that boy’s corpse threw me for a whirlwind. I thought I was crazy for seeing visions of him getting attacked, but now knowing that he’s dead and was rotting in Fox Forests doesn’t sit well with me at all. Part of me hopes that it really was some wild animal that finished him off, and not Hal.

I cough, “I appreciate that, Officer…” I glare down at the younger one’s nametag, reading it out loud, “Minetta.”

“We’ll just run through a couple of questions with you, then you’ll be free to go, Miss Beauchamp.” the young officer, Minetta, replies. He opens up a manila folder and slides it so the folder sits in the middle of the table, between all three of us. It’s a profile of Chuck, school photo and everything.

Keller starts off the interrogation, “You ever seen him before today?” I lean down to get a better look. Did Chuck ever come into Pop’s before his death? Maybe? But my memory has not brought me any benefits lately, so I can’t exactly rely on it now.

“I’ve only heard about him through Sabrina.” Minetta raises his brow at me. I clear my throat, “My, uh…..I’m looking after her for a family friend.

Minetta takes the next question. “You just moved into town, right? Making pies at Pop’s?” I smirk, and without a word, I shoot my index finger upward, indicating, Yep that’s me. He goes on, “Did your….did Sabrina ever say anything negative regarding Mr. Clayton? Any behaviors she witnessed at school?” I do my best to think back - Hiram’s daughter running into Pop’s all muddy and crying. The girls in the bedroom. Sabrina’s notebook sitting on the bed…..That notebook. Did I ever bother to check why she had that thing there? Or was I so caught up in my own plans to….

“Nothing significant.” I respond. “Just a name drop here or there, but nothing that could indicate he was in any sort of danger.” I want to leave it at that, but Keller and Minetta must have picked up on my expression. They want more details. I sigh, “All I know is that he did something to Hiram’s daughter, and it….it didn’t bode well. With any of us.”

“Was Sabrina involved with….” Minetta starts off but he quickly drops. My face falls. Is he trying to imply that Sabrina and Chuck were fooling around? When I clearly know she would never do anything to damage her relationship with that young Kinkle boy in Greendale. I clench onto my cup of hot chocolate. I roll my eyes.

“What does that have to do with him getting mauled out in the woods?” I spit out. Minetta leans back in his seat, now a little bit afraid of me. Keller turns to him and starts whispering. At this point, I’m irritated and impatient. I don’t know why they’re asking me about Sabrina, or how I’m adjusting to Riverdale. And…..and where are they holding Hiram? Can’t they just realize that they don’t have any evidence against us? Can’t they just let us go?

I see Minetta nod at Keller, then rise up from his seat. He bids me a small farewell and exits the room. I watch as the door slams shut, leaving Keller and I alone. My anger cools off, but my suspicion still lingers.

Keller huffs. “I’m sorry, there wasn’t any intention to upset you like that, Miss Beauchamp. We’re only trying to….make sense of everything.”

“Regarding?” I inquire, my irritation bubbling once again.

“Regarding how Chuck ended up in that forest. Granted, we still need to have a formal autopsy completed to see the specific cause of death, but we all highly doubt that a human went out of their way to kill this boy.” He goes silent, a sad smile forms on his face. I can’t buy into this. It takes a lot of strength for me to not blurt out, Then why are you holding onto Hiram? Keller must have read my mind, or come to his senses about our holding, because he says, “Doesn’t mean someone didn’t intentionally lure Chuck out last night to be killed by a wild animal.”

My fingernails pierce my cup. My eyes dagger at him. I’m too baffled to even come up with a response. He thinks Hiram had a hand in killing Chuck, or leading that boy to his demise? I could laugh, I could do many things right now because I know it’s a wild accusation.

Instead, I scoff. “Is that why you’ve got Hiram in the other room? You think he’s behind all this?” Keller smirks, and deep down he probably knows he’s wrong.

But Keller isn’t letting go of his pride. He follows up, “Miss Beauchamp, you know my opinions on the man. He’s one of the more ruthless people in this town, so honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if we found any evidence that could trace back to him. And besides, it was his daughter that got hurt by Chuck afterall.” Keller may have a point - Hiram would do anything to protect his own daughter, even if it meant taking out the people who came to harm her. But….how could have Hiram orchestrated Chuck’s demise if he was with me? He WAS with me, and he’s been with me all morning. The instruments in his bag might be held up by the police for questioning, yet you can’t use divination rods or a spell book to slash open a teenage boy. At this point, it’s Keller trying to prove a point about his ill-opinion on Hiram. I know I’m still learning to trust him. I don’t even know if this contract that’s tattooed onto me is anything permanent…. But Hiram really is innocent this time. And I’m the only alibi he’s got.

I speak up, “I’m well aware of how much that girl means to him. He’ll protect her with all of his heart and soul…..but he’s not a killer. If you’d ask me, I think he’d rather would have paid Chuck’s parents to have him leave school or skip town to get rid of him, rather than leading him, or anyone really, to their unfortunate fates.” Keller’s confidence fades, and I smirk at him this time around. He has to contemplate my response for a moment before he engages with me again.

“How exactly would you know this?” A breath builds up in my lungs. Would it be too risky to admit of our meeting, why we had to do it? I force the air out of my lungs, through my teeth. I guess a little white-lie wouldn’t hurt.

“Because he admitted it to me last night.” I formulate an answer. Keller’s shocked. His face flushes and his lips part. I roll my eyes and go on, “He invited me to dinner last night and I took his offer. It wasn’t anything manipulative or drastic. He just wanted me to get to know the town better. Nothing more….nothing less.” I end it there. Wow, I’m starting to sound like Hiram, and that’s a sentence I’d never thought I would ever say in my existence. But it’s enough to get Keller thinking. He glares off to the distance over my shoulder, and I can’t tell if it’s a good or a bad thing.

I could use a spell to convince Keller to let Hiram go. I could work my way through these walls to allow Hiram some escape via magic. I have to do something….but maybe this time magic won’t cut it. It’ll open up another can of worms that are already spilling onto my plate, and I can’t take another load. And I can’t risk blowing my cover for the sake of proving Hiram’s innocence. I have to think with my mortal side. So, I stand up, letting go of my barely-touched hot chocolate, and walk around the table to reach Keller’s side. I hover over him now. He picks up on this and turns to face me.

I sigh. “You’re allowed to have your opinions. I won’t force you to get rid of them. But you have to believe on this, Keller…..Hiram may not be who, or what, you think he is.” I pause, the realization of my own words hitting me. Hiram is definitely not what I thought he was when I came back to Riverdale, and his actions continue to surprise me. Maybe it does help that he never admitted his witchcraft to me back in high school….

Keller huffs and rises from his seat. He hands me my cup with sorrow. He glares down at the ground. Then, he looks at me. “I’ll talk to the others and see what we can arrange. Just wait outside, okay, Miss Beauchamp?” I’m stunned. It worked. My persuasion worked, and it didn’t involve any magic or blackmail. I almost smile, I almost laugh in relief, but I have to keep it together, just for now. Calm and collected, I nod, mumbling a thank you. Keller leads me out of the steel room, back out into the warm, bright hallway. He sits me down on the wooden bench, telling me that he’ll be back in a few minutes. I watch as he goes off into another interrogation room…..Hiram’s in there probably. The door shuts. I’m alone again.

A couple of officers pass by without taking not of my presence, not that I’m asking for anyone to pay attention to me. My knee bounces, my heel taps the wooden floor at rapid speed. My cup of hot chocolate is now lukewarm, the cocoa powder clumping together in an unsettling fashion. My fingernails run up and down my palm. How many minutes have passed? I shut my eyes. Daisies and Candles. Be patient, Alice. The grazing of my nails against my palms turns into scratching. The jerking of my knee increases. Where is Keller? Why hasn’t Hiram come out yet? Is Sabrina okay? DID HAL KILL CHUCK CLAYTON? My nails find their place in my palms, they dig in.

The door on my left opens. I snap out of whatever I just experienced. My fist unclenches. My knees stops bouncing. I open my eyes. I stay still on the bench as I watch Keller emerge from the interrogation room. He motions for whoever may be in there to come out. It takes a couple of seconds, but Hiram steps out into the hallway. My composure softens. I rise up from my place. He sees me and takes a baby step forward, tugging on his bag nervously. it still looks full, so maybe the police didn’t confiscate any of his equipment. Yet, he looks so shaken. What were they asking him in that room?

Keller comes in between us. He keeps his back to Hiram as he addresses me, “This only happens one time, okay?” I give him a nod of confirmation. Keller glances over his shoulder to look at Hiram. He huffs, then he turns back to me. He leans in, “I want only what’s best for you, Miss Beauchamp. I don’t want to watch you get hurt….” He continues to go on, but now I’m no longer looking at Keller. I direct my gaze to Hiram. He’s keeping it together all things considered, but it’s a little obvious now that he’s upset. His eyes meet mine. I see the tiredness, the petrification, the….the guilt.

Keller places his hand on my shoulder. “Promise me you’ll be smart, alright?” I don’t look at him. I don’t say a word, at least not right away. I just nod again and start to move away, his hand slipping from my shoulder.

I mutter, “Thanks, Sheriff Keller.”

“Please….call me Tom.” I break my gaze from Hiram and turn to Keller. He smiles briefly, then walks away. Call me Tom. It sends shivers through me. I wait until Keller is out of range before I fixate my sights back on Hiram. We stay staring at each other for a few moments, unsure of who will make the first move forward. Eventually, it’s me. I stride over to him, then stop a few feet away, afraid to come any closer. He takes some steps towards me, enough so we can have somewhat of a private conversation. He goes to open his mouth, but I jump in.

“I didn’t use any manipulation spells, or seduce him, to convince him to let you go….if that’s what you were wondering.” I clamp my mouth shut. My eyes dart down to the ground, my hand keeps its firm grip on the cup. “There wasn’t any reason for them to hold you there for so long.”

“I appreciate that, Alice.” I lift my head up at his voice. His expression lightens up a bit. “Thank you.”

My lips part, I smile. “I owe you the favor, anyway. Did….did they take anything out of that bag? Do we need to get any of it---”

“No, it’s all still in here.” he gestures down to his bag. I release the air I guess I was holding onto in relief. It’s starting to get claustrophobic in this hallway, and I don’t think he wants to stand here anymore. I release my shoulders from my ears and turn on my heels. I start to walk towards the exit, out near the lobby. No footsteps follow behind me. I whip my head around to find Hiram still in his place.

“Aren’t I driving you back?” He doesn’t get it at first. He just stares at me all funny. I clarify, “Back to Pembrooke?”

He finally gets the idea. He starts to get all nervous on me, “Alice, you don’t have to.” The attempt to play it off as nothing doesn’t work on me. I cross my arms and glare. He sighs. “It’s just a couple of blocks down the road. I’ll be fine walking back.”

“You really would prefer to walk back and freeze your ass off when I literally have my car sitting in that parking lot?” He makes an attempt to say something, defend his choice, but I’m not backing down. I raise a brow at him and smirk. He gives up. He’s wound up, chuckling, and…..is he blushing?

Hiram grips onto his bag and gives me a defeated grin. “If you insist, Acid Queen Alice. Lead the way.” I tilt my chin up at him and turn away. In a matter of seconds, he catches up to walk by my side.

We leave the station and head back out to the parking lot. We climb back into my car in silence. I allow the heat to blast before I pull out and head back onto the road. I haven’t spent any time in downtown Riverdale since returning, so this area of town is a little foreign to me. But Hiram’s at least generous enough to guide me through the streets to get to Pembrooke. I look out through the windshield to examine the different places I probably passed by in my youth. Nothing really strikes out as familiar, except for the town library. The library….. I’ve been so distracted by the ordeal at the police station that I almost completely forgot - the library, needing to do research, the Reaper…..

“This is me on the left.” Hiram points towards the end of the street. I peer out my window and my jaw drops. This is where he lives? I pull over to the curb and somehow manage to not hit anyone. I put the car in park, glancing around the street. It’s….prestigious. I don’t think I ever have been to the richer side of downtown Riverdale, the library was the furthest I’d gone back in the 90s. There’s a handful of shops, a finance office, a law practice….I keep lingering off to where the library just was. There has to be something on those murders…..

“Do you want me to see if Sabrina is still up there?” Hiram pulls me out of my thoughts. “I can send her down if you want. Unless you have to go back to work?”

I shake my head. “It’s alright. I’m going to see if I can do some research in the library. Regarding….” I stop and chew on my tongue. Maybe this is all too radical - Hal can’t be connected to the Reaper, can he? I puff out an exhale. My fingers tap on the steering wheel. My eyesight goes distant, staring off into nowhere. “Am I crazy, Hiram? For wanting to find a correlation between Hal, and the Reaper? And now….”

“Chuck Clayton?” he finishes my thought. I don’t answer him, I’m too scared to confirm what is running through my head. We both stay silent for a minute. I hear him shift in his seat, “You felt his death, didn’t you? Is that what caused you to have that nosebleed during dinner?”

I open my mouth, struggling to form words. My palm lifts from the steering wheel then slams back down. “I didn’t just feel it. I…..” Something stops me. Those visions I had…..was it purely a hallucination to mess with me? But the pool, the red water, the boy in there…..I swear, it looked like the body I…. “I saw it. I can’t explain how, or why, but I saw Chuck’s death through….” I stop again. How did I see it? If Hal really was the animalistic culprit behind this, whatever form he has taken this time, how could I witness it from his view? It happened to me back at Pop’s when I saw his releasing. It’s like…..

A chill runs through me. My fingers latch onto the wheel for dear life. My teeth clench. There’s a reason that I’ve had those visions. Why I feel so sick when I go too hard. I wish I could see it sooner, but maybe coming to Riverdale has made me aware. The visions, the sickness…..

“I think it has to do with Hal.” I force myself to admit. I take a deep breath, then turn to Hiram. “When I bound him to the Conway House and skipped town, I don’t think I unbound myself from him. I must have forgotten to free myself from his latch, or maybe I just didn’t want to think about what I went through, but…..I think some part of him is still attached to me. I think he has been, and now with him being free from that house…..if he attacks, or if he kills, I’m gonna feel it. And so will whoever brought him out.” I dart my eyes away from him and glare out the windshield. I let go of the steering wheel, allowing myself to recline into my seat, my hands falling onto my thighs. A thought comes to me - if Hiram and I do find Hal, if we go and perform any spells that will harm Hal…..will it harm me too? Will it kill me?

I tap my knuckles up and down on my thighs. I make an effort to brush it all off, “I’m probably just being delusional…..” I sit up in my seat, pressing my palms down into my thighs. I face Hiram, “Can familiars make their witches sick? Has that ever happened with you and Edgar?”

He has to think about it for a hot minute. Then, he replies, “No, I don’t think I have. It’s a highly unusual side effect of bonding with a familiar…..but it’s something I can look into. If that’s what you would like.” The lump in my throat fades. So he doesn’t think I’m going insane. Without a word, I nod at him. The corners of his mouth rise an inch. Then, he goes to open the passengers’ side door. “If Sabrina’s still upstairs, I’ll send her over to the library to meet up with you. Thank you for the ride, Alice.”

“Anytime. And that would be great.” I quickly respond. He’s about to shut the door but stops. Something’s making him hesitate. Maybe I’m just making something out of nothing, so I decide to keep my eyes in front of the road. My hands go back up to the steering wheel, my lips press together. From my side, Hiram peels the door back, sticking his head in. He exhales.

“You’re not delusional, Alice. What you partook in with your familiar all those years ago was….horrible, yes. But you are not the villain. Your trauma should not control your life. Your past should not define who you are now.”

My lips part. My cheeks feel heavy. My eyes water. I manage to turn to Hiram. His whole expression is neutral, but his eyes…..they give away the remorse he has for….for me. He extends his fingers upward, I guess to bid me farewell for now, and shuts the door. I watch him glide up the steps to Pembrooke, disappearing back into the comfort of his home.

I’m numb. No, I….I feel everything. I haven’t let others analyze my trauma like that. I’m fortunate that Gladys and Hiram both haven’t declared me insane, but to anyone else…..it’s material that could send me away to a bedlam. I don’t want to think that I’ve lost it, that what Hal put me through won’t make me completely unhinged. But what if I’m already on my way there?

_Your past should not define who you are._

Hiram’s right - I shouldn’t let everything that happened to me control the rest of my existence. I know this, and believe me, I’ve tried to move on. But hearing it from someone else makes me realize that what I’ve done to cope on my own isn’t working. These years of having to reduce my magic for the fear of sickness, on top of avoiding any talk of Riverdale, hasn’t worked. I’m not healed, the wounds have only been cut deeper.

A tear streams down my cheek. Great, just when I’ve already cried enough this morning. Out of frustration, I wipe the tear away. “That’s enough.” I mutter to myself and huff. I wait another minute to make myself calm down. Then, I drive away.

** _XXXXXXXX_ **

** ** ** _End of Chapter Six_ **


	8. Madness Starts Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back! Sorry it's taken so long for me to update! But here is a brand new chapter to end your 2019!

**ALICE**

My trip to the library is uneventful. There’s barely any books about the town between 1955 and 1970. And I have no luck finding anything about witchcraft. I make an attempt to inquire the front desks about these books, if they do have any hiding in the back, but to no avail. Apparently, somebody has already checked out books about the town from 1960 to 1970.

I wind up resorting to the internet for a bulk of my research. What pops up when you type “Riverdale Reaper” onto Google is either a link to a conspiracy group chat, or some memes generated by _Buzzfeed_. I’m getting frustrated, and I just want some answers. How did Hal get in that house anyway? Would he really have been around during the massacres? Or even before…..when the town was founded?

It hits me. Hal might have been here since the beginning of Riverdale. Maybe he was there before the Reaper. I bolt up from my seat at the computers, and I sprint back over to the Riverdale History books section. I pour through the titles, reading them out, until I find what I want. Riverdale’s story from the beginning in the 1940s. And I only glanced over this trying to find information only about the Reaper. Guess I’m going to look for a pattern!

I take a book or two and run back to the front desk to check them out. The older woman at the front gives me a bizarre look. Then I realize - I need to get a damn library card before I can leave with these books entoe. I impatiently wait as this librarian creates my card, glancing around the ancient place. I remember spending some days here after school, finding solace and quiet from the chaotic environment at Riverdale High. It gave me a place to read up more on magic. It allowed me to avoid Hal when it all got worse in the end. Shouldn’t Sabrina be on her way over here now? Unless she already headed back to the trailer long before I dropped Hiram off at Pembrooke…

My library card finishes processing, and I finally get the books in my short-term possession. Normally, I would opt to spend the afternoon pouring through the contents of these texts, but I have work this afternoon, and I need to see if Sabrina is back at the trailer. I thank the woman, head out of the library, and speed back to the trailer park.

It’s quiet when I pull in. All of the roads were quiet when I drove through town. Maybe everyone’s heard already about what happened to Chuck Clayton. I step out of my car, allowing the cold to embrace me. The wind causes the bottom of my dress to stick to my legs. I can feel my toes starting to go numb from the low temperature. A meow pierces the silence. It’s coming from the trailer. I turn to face my trailer, taking careful steps towards the stairway. A mix of warming energy and…..something not so warm and fuzzy, pollutes my brain the closer I come. Sabrina is back, I sense it…..but that cat is too. How long has it been alone in the trailer for? Is Sabrina inside, or somewhere else in the trailer park? And…..why is this cat giving off so much bad energy?

A sharp bark comes from behind me. Panicked, I whip my head, only to find a fluffy sheep dog with dark grey ears waddling over to me. It barks up at the trailer, I’m guessing over Sabrina’s cat, and pauses its trail the closer it comes to me. I don’t consider myself much of a dog person, or a cat person for that matter, but this dog really is kind of adorable. It stops barking when it looks up at me, then it sits down on its hind legs. It’s acting so calm around me, so hopeful. Does it know I’m a witch? I crack a smile, then in the spur of the moment, I hold my palm out to the dog. It stays in it place, panting rapidly, then it brings its nose up to my palm. The cold and wet sensation tickles my palm, I giggle. It lets out a little yelp before it starts to make circles around me.

“Hot Dog! Come here, boy!” FP hurries over to us, whistling to the dog. Is this….this is the family dog? My new fluffy acquaintance, Hot Dog, stops his circles around me and runs back over to his owner. FP kneels down and ruffles through the dog’s fur. He glances up at me, “He’s not used to so many new faces, so he was just itching to go run around. He wouldn’t stop slobbering all over your girl just earlier.” My smile fades a bit. Sabrina’s been with FP?

“Is she alright?” I put the question out there.

FP sighs and stands up. He nods, “Yeah, she’s good. Been doing….school stuff for most of the morning with Jug, so….” My tension eases. Okay, she was somewhere safe this morning. I wonder how she managed to get back to the trailer park on her own, unless Hiram’s daughter arranged for a ride back. Or maybe FP or Jughead picked her up. Do any of them know about Chuck Clayton?

Behind FP, Sabrina appears and glows when she sees me. “Ali, you’re back!” My smile returns, I know now she’s safe. I move over to her and we embrace. She’s clinging onto me a lot more than usual. She’s shaking, yet I’m not sure if it’s from the cold or something else. Sabrina breaks our hug and looks up at me. “Did….did you hear about….it was on the news this morning…..”

My heart drops. She does know about Chuck. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I didn’t hear about it - I saw it myself. Got stuck at the police station because of it.” The girl’s eyes widen. Her mouth falls open. I want to explain to her my whereabouts, my reasons, but FP is standing right there. And he still doesn’t know….

“Why did Keller hold you up?” FP asks out of the blue. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly.” I mutter. From inside the trailer, that cat howls again. Hot Dog yelps in response to the howling, and FP has to quiet him down. Sabrina rolls her eyes.

“I better go check on Salem.” she starts to head back to the trailer, but she seems more….hesitant. She’s still shivering, no, she’s antsy. Something’s off with her. I gently grab for her forearm and she stops. “Ali?”

“Are you feeling okay, sweetie? It’s about this…..Chuck thing, isn’t it?” She glances down at her feet, her lips pressing together all nervously.

She waits until she looks back up to answer, very quietly, “I don’t know.” This isn’t like Sabrina. Granted, the whole Dark Baptism episode did a number on her, but…..I’m not sure what’s up with her now. She only knew the kid based on what happened to Hiram’s daughter, unless they had class together. Maybe she’s just as conflicted about how to feel about his death, just like I am. Or Hiram for that matter. But she’s acting so…..skiddish. I take a closer look at her face. There’s a small rim of red around one of her nostrils. Almost like blood.

Sabrina starts to back away. “I’m gonna head in to take a shower. Is that okay?” To be honest, I want her to stay out here. I want to know if she’s doing okay. I want to know what that red ring inside her nose is from. No, that’s what Zelda or Hilda would want, and I’m not them. So instead, I nod and watch as she exclaims a quick “thank you” and scurries off into the trailer.

I really do fear for her. I fear for Veronica too, and even FP and Gladys’s kids. It makes me worry that Hal could latch to any one of them and harm them. But they all seem to be in good hands. Sabrina….she was in good hands with FP. I turn back around and find FP still messing around with his dog. He looked after her. For me. Oh no, I hope I don’t get emotional again. I’ve already poured my tweaked heart and soul out for one person. I don’t need FP, or Gladys, taking on more of my baggage.

I make my way over to FP. “Has she been with you all morning?” He directs his attention upward to me. He lets his dog go and stands up.

“Probably for an hour or two. Since….Jug brought her over to see the news about that boy.” He pauses for a second to run his fingers through his hair. He glances up at my trailer, “Poor kid, she looked so upset about the whole matter. Good thing Jug brought her over, and that she stayed with us…..she was…..she was about start getting---” I take a couple of steps in, stopping him before he can finish his thought.

“Thank you, FP. Thank you for watching over Sabrina. I’m sorry I couldn’t come over sooner. I tried, but Keller had me held up for so long, and….” I have to slow down. I have to remember FP doesn’t know about my powers, about Hiram, about why I really went out this morning. I let my mouth stay open and shake my head. I’m at a loss of words right now. How can I even explain everything to him now? If I did, would he ever understand? Would he forgive me for leaving?

My building anxieties fade when FP reaches for my hand. His touch leaves me shaken, yet it soothes me. My mouth clamps shut, I look up at him. “Don’t worry about it, Ali. We take care of our own.” He gives me an empathetic smile and winks. The younger version of myself would swoon, I won’t lie. But his expression makes me have no butterflies. Maybe him being with Gladys has helped me move on. I grin in return. Something behind FP causes him to teeter closer to me. He lets my hand go to reach for the figure behind him, laughing. Jellybean pokes her head out from behind his hip and wraps her arms around her father’s waist, staring up at me. I can’t help but wave at her, she really does remind me of Sabrina when I first met her.

I start to back away towards the direction of my trailer. “Let me know if you guys need anything! I’m just going to relax a bit before I head back to work!” I turn on my heel and start to walk away. In the background, I can hear the little girl whispering to her father. It’s so quiet, but my witchness amplifies her words. _Ask her, dad. Aren’t you going to ask her?_

I face them again, “Ask me what?”

Jellybean pushes her father forward. He grabs for his daughter’s hand before he can provide any sort of explanation. “Yeah, um…..What are you and Sabrina doing for Thanksgiving?” I stand there, taken aback. I don’t think Sabrina and I have talked about what we would do for the holiday. I wasn’t anticipating for both of us to stay here so long term, long past Thanksgiving, before we would have to return to Greendale for her trial. Worse case, we could just order Chinese and have it at the trailer. Or we could do a turkey dinner at Pop’s. Or….heaven, we could do something with Hiram and Veronica, if that’s what they want. My plans are so up in the air, I have no sort of clue of what’s going on. I decide to tell FP that I have no plans, and that Sarbina and I might just hit up Pop’s or order in. I’m curious now as to why he…..well, why his little girl, wants to know of our plans.

“Why don’t you and Sabrina come spend Thanksgiving with us?” My heart flutters. I can feel water forming in the corners of my eyes. FP continues, “Gladys and I got talking last night, and she….both of us, really, just want you and your girl to not feel left out on the holiday, you know?”

“FP…..” I don’t know what to say. FP and Gladys want us to come over? I’m worried that I’ve already stepped over my boundaries or overstayed my welcome in Serpent territory, but this little act of inclusion…..it’s like they both want me to be part of their family. They want me and Sabrina to not be alone. “FP, are you sure?”

“We don’t mind a little extra company. Besides, the kids would get a kick out of it. I mean, Jug and Sabrina can….study together or whatever, and JB….” he looks down at his girl. He can’t find the words to say more, but the expression this girl gives me. She looks like that sad-looking Muppet girl from that Cookie Monster skit on _Sesame Street_. It’s so innocent, so mischievious…..so much in longing for someone to be her friend. The same face that came into my life and is now living with me in the trailer. It’s that damn face that wins me over.

“Oh, why not? Sure!” I finally accept their invitation. The little girl glows, and so does FP. I follow up, “But let me at least help out, okay? You and Gladys shouldn’t have to do the work all by yourselves. I can make the side dishes, or even any beverages you all want!” I dart my eyes back down to Jellybean, talking to her directly. “Do you want me to make you something special?” With a coy little grin, she nods. I wink in response.

“Alright, we’ll let you get going.” FP waves me goodbye, and so does she. Together, the father-daughter duo walk hand-in-hand back to their trailer, Hot Dog trailing behind them. He’s so in peace now, not fearing for his life or worrying about his future. He really does care about his children, and he’s so devoted to Gladys. And she’s just as devoted to him. I stay outside for a bit, taking in this environment. This place hasn’t changed, but FP has, and definitely for the better. He and Gladys both want to make it better for their children, so they will never have to face the same fate that we did when we were their age. They’re lucky, and I envy them.

I wonder what I should make JB as a little Thanksgiving treat.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

Ali keeps staring at my nose. Can she tell that I had a nose bleed? I really do want to tell her about my reaction to Chuck Clayton’s death, maybe even ask her about what Mister Jones confessed to me. But, if I’m honest, I’m exhausted, I need a shower, and….I’m worried that I’ve left Salem on his own for too long. I still don’t know if I trust what he’s saying about his involvement with Chuck.

I head back towards the trailer, still talking to Ali. “I’m gonna head in to take a shower. Is that okay?” She nods without a sound. “Okay, thanks!” I make a break for the steps and enter the trailer. I let my back hit the door, and I release a long exhale. I squeeze my eyes shut, embracing the silence of the trailer. Well, it’s not entirely silent. In the living room, Salem chirps as he jumps off the couch and prances over to me.

“Did you see the size of that dog?” he comments about the Jones’s family pet, Hot Dog. “He could practically pin me down without a blink of an eye.” He’s trying to keep the conversation light-hearted, but he’s obviously hiding something. I open my eyes and glare down at him.

“We need to talk, Salem.” I huff as I begin to walk into the bedroom. I run my fingers through my hair and slip off my headband. I set my backpack down onto the bed right as Salem jumps up.

“What’s the trouble now? I already told you we don’t need to worry about Chuck Clayton anymore.” I finish slipping off my shoes when he makes that last statement. I get dizzy again. I have to rest my palms onto the mattress to avoid passing out. Why is the mentioning of Chuck doing this to me? This never happened before with anyone I ever got justice from - not from those boys who picked on Suzie, or the Weird Sisters. Why has my time with Salem changed that?

“Why did you do it, Salem?” He’s quiet at first, then he chuckles. Of course, he’s going to act like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about about. “WHY---” I raise my voice but then quickly drop it. What if Ali comes in and overhears our conversation. I rush over to shut the door before I start up, in a hushed voice, “Why did you kill Chuck? I told you V and I had it covered!”

“I was keeping your best interest in mind.” he starts to lick his paw. “And that boy was bound to go on and do the same to other girls. It was better to take him out right then and there while I….we had the chance.” I raise a brow at him. That last sentence isn’t sitting right with me. I go to reach for….the empty space between my lungs. I forgot I took off Dad’s necklace before I went to bed last night. Ignoring Salem, I rummage through my bag until I feel the little amulet. It takes only a few seconds to slip on my comfort charm run my fingers over the grooves.

Salem reaches his paw up to touch my hand. Like syrup, he says, “I was only trying to protect you, Sabrina. That’s what familiars were made to do. How can you get mad at me for simply doing my job?” He may have a point - familiars stand by their witches and protect them from any sort of harm. I’m probably just not used to someone…..something performing a dangerous act out of devotion to me. Or V. But I don’t want Salem to keep killing people….I don’t want to have this new behavior established as a pattern.

I sigh. “Come here.” I scoop Salem into my arms. He purrs in content while I scratch his head. “We need to set a ground rule. For now on, no more killing anyone V and I don’t get along with. Don’t even attack them, unless I say it’s okay to do so. I already have enough blood on my hands from my birthday…..I don’t need more spilt on me, okay?”

“I guess….I can work with that.” he draws out. He sounds annoyed, but at least he’s willing to compromise. I grin and set him down onto the bed.

“Like I said,” I start as I make my way to the bathroom to turn on the shower, “not everyone in Riverdale is evil. They don’t know I’m a witch, so why should we be starting fights?”

Salem follows me into the bathroom and jumps up onto the toilet lid. “You’re right - we don’t start fights. But we certainly do end them.” Well, that’s one way to put it. But he still isn’t getting the point - no further blood shed. I glare down at him. He grumbles, “Peacefully, of course.”

“Sure, Salem.” I remark. I decide to just drop the conversation and jump into the shower. It takes a bit for the water to heat up (the water system here in the trailer park is not strong, but it at least functions) but I’m in and out of there within a few minutes. I throw on some pajamas and towel dry my wet hair so it’s not super damp. I glance over at my phone on the bed. I know it’s only been a handful of hours, but I’m worried about V. I feel awful about leaving her so early. Out of instinct, I flop down onto the bed and pull up my messages. Nothing from V. I’m relieved, but at the same time, I’m quite anxious. I wonder how she’s reacting to Chuck’s death. I wonder if she even knows at all….

There’s a knock at the door, causing Salem to chirp. “It’s open!” I yell out, still glued to my phone. Ali enters, and I set the phone down. I sit up, “Just checking in on V, that’s all. I haven’t seen, or heard, from her since this morning, so---”

“That’s fine, sweetheart.” Alice jumps in before I can go on rambling. She gives me a gracious smile. Something good must have happened because she’s glowing. “I wanted to let you know - we’re going to spend Thanksgiving with the Joneses.” I stay there with my mouth gaped open. Jughead and his family want us to join them? That’s…..it is amazing, really. I really just wasn’t expecting it. I guess I was waiting to hear if I could come home to be with Aunties and Ambrose. Maybe even wait to see if V wanted me and Ali to join them…. Ali picks up on my mood, “Is….is that alright with you, Sabrina? I’m not jumping in on any plans you have with Veronica, am I?”

“No!” I jump up and come closer to Ali. I take her hand, “This is good with me.” And I mean it. Maybe it will be fun spending the holiday with our new neighbors. Besides, it can buy me and Jughead some time to do more research on the Riverdale Reaper. The more I think of the positives, the more I become excited for the upcoming day. “Do they want us to bring anything? Make any side dishes?”

“That’s what I’ll need your help with, if you’re okay with that.” She makes her way out of the bedroom, out into the kitchen. I follow her to see what she’s been planning. There’s an array of cookbooks scattered across the stovetop. Some I recognize from when Ali first started her bakery back in Greendale. I smile - Ali’s never usually this excited about playing a part in giant holiday get-togethers. Whenever Aunties would throw a major feast, Ali would just make a simple dessert, or she would just brew some mulled wine. It was never anything over the top, and she never placed much passion into the occasion. What has caused her to start caring now? I’m thrilled, really, but it’s so unlike her. It’s….it’s like she’s finally willing to embrace our time here in Riverdale.

“Do you remember what I made the first Thanksgiving I had with you and your Aunts?” She frantically flips through the cookbooks. “What was that dessert? Did it have pumpkin in it?” She goes on rambling and flipping through pages. I vaguely have an idea of what she’s referring to - the first Thanksgiving Ali joined us, she made me a blended dessert, one that included pumpkin and apple. I can practically taste it in my mouth. I eye one of the cookbooks and search for the recipe. When I find it, I show it to her.

“It’s those apple-pumpkin cookies with the maple glaze. You noticed that I was constantly asking Auntie Z to buy them for me when you started up, so….”

“I brought you a whole batch when I came over.” Ali turns to me and smiles. I can sense the nostalgia in her eyes. She’s happy looking back at it, but she…..she also looks fearful. Cautious of something. “Am I going overboard with this, Sabrina?”

“What? No!” I jump up onto the counter and grab her hand. “Why do you say that?” She glares down at the books and pushes the air out through somewhat closed lips.

“You know me - I don’t really do giant holiday events. Especially with people I don’t care for. Or strangers.”

“The Joneses aren’t strangers.”

“I get that….” Her voice trails off. She twists around so she can lean against the oven. She glances over her shoulder to look up at me. “Your friend’s parents…..they’ve done so much for us within these past couple of weeks. I knew his dad growing up. I work with his mom now. I’ve spent so much time on my own, long before I got mixed up with you and your Aunts, so…..it’s a type of acquaintance I’m not really used to. Well, I need to learn to get used to it.” Ali reaches for her elbows, lowering her head. Is this topic becoming too sensitive for her? I place my hand on her shoulder, giving it a loving squeeze. She moves her hand closest upwards to stroke my fingers.

She looks up at me again, “I never wanted to bond with anyone after I left this town. I hurt a lot of people because of what I did, Sabrina. In my head, isolating myself from society seemed like the only logical solution. I became nomadic. I wanted to see what I could of this world without anyone seeing me. I wanted to be a ghost.” She stops for a moment, turning around to face me. She takes a firm hold of my hand, releasing an exhale through her nose. “But I wouldn’t be here then, otherwise. I wouldn’t have met you.” Her lips curl up. She’s smiling, yes, but it’s out of melancholy. The talk we had a few days before races back into my head. She said she made some mistake….Mister Jones just told me people from his high school died.

No, she couldn’t have….but did she? Was Ali the reason those kids died? What that the mistake she keeps talking about?

Ali tilts her head at me, is she noticing something off about my expression? She cups my face with her free hand. “And….I’m sorry I haven’t done more to help you here. I’ve been so caught up focusing on my past, my problems…..I’m not enjoying enough of the present. I’m not paying attention to what’s going on with you.” My eyes bulge. I gulp down a wad of saliva. I don’t want her to ask about the Conway House, or about how I came to have Salem in my possession, but all those things will have to come to her knowledge eventually. I just don’t have the proper explanations for those yet.

Luckily for me, she just says, “I want to make sure you’re okay, honey. There’s been a lot going on - first with your birthday and the move here. Now, with that classmate of yours….” She pauses in the middle of her sentence. She doesn’t have to say any names - I know she’s referring to Chuck. I could churn. She has no idea that V and I went to confront him last night. She has no idea that the “wild animal” that tore Chuck into shreds is sitting right in our bedroom. I’m guilty, I caused him to die. I caused Salem to kill him. I caused V to lose control of her powers and awaken…..whatever that thing is with her. Ali said she made a mistake. Well, I made a mistake too. All I’ve done is make mistakes, which is why we’re here in the first place. If I hadn’t agreed to go to that house, Salem wouldn’t be here, and V wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and we wouldn’t have confronted Chuck, and I wouldn’t have caused Salem to---

Ali holds onto my face with both hands. I must have fazed out or gotten dizzy, because my head hurts. My eyes get wet. I look down at her, and she’s concerned. “Do you want me to stop talking about it? We can move onto something else.” I go to answer, but my mouth is dry. My brain can’t form words. Instead, I sniffle and nod before jumping down from the counter. She pulls me into her arms, stroking my head as she hugs me. I release little sobs against her collarbone. I hold onto her tighter. I never meant for Ali to become so roped into my mess. I don’t want to make her depression worse. I just want someone, or something, to help me fix what I started.

XXXXXXXX

I’ve come to appreciate the quiet in this trailer. I’m so used to all the noise back at the mortuary that it’s an odd comfort to be sitting here in silence. Ali’s been at work all day, and she’s spent most of her time prepping for tomorrow’s feast with the Joneses. I’m happy that she wants to integrate more into Riverdale. She seems content at work with Jughead’s mom, and she and Mister Lodge appear to be on somewhat good terms. And I’m quite relieved that she avoided the subject of Chuck after our talk yesterday. I do want to tell her about my involvement, I want to ask for advice on how to move forward. Yet, I’m worried that if I reopen this can of worms, it will manifest into something much worse. Also, I don’t have any idea of how to explain what happened to V. I thought about inviting V over to join us for Thanksgiving, it could give her a chance to get out of Pembrooke and just enjoy the holiday. Eventually, I came around to it that V should spend time with her father and avoid discussing Chuck all together. Well, try to avoid the discussion unless a conversation does need to occur. I figure she and I can spend Friday together shopping for Christmas gifts.

I’ve spent most of today flying through these Riverdale books, still keen on who this red-headed woman is in the pictures. There’s not much information on this woman, or her companions in this “witch hunters” group. All that the book provides is the basic summary of the group banding together to go after anyone they believed to be the Reaper. There’s no list of who fled town either, perhaps there’s an index in the back that can help. I go back to where I found this woman’s photo to search for a caption, and I hope that it may lead me in the right direction. I’m in luck - under the photo lives a small-print list of the names involved. It’s a bunch of older names, like Matthias, and Julian, some bear the last names of kids I go to school with, which shocks me. Then, I find the one female name out of the bunch, Rose Blossom.

A thunderous knocking shakes the trailer. Salem, who fell asleep on the living room floor, stirs awake. I rise up from my seat and hurry to the door. Who could be waiting for me at this time of night? Did Ali forget her keys? I open the door to find Jughead losing his grip on a moving box. He grunts, “You mind giving me a hand?” I look down at this box, labeled “Dad’s stuff”. Jughead must have found something for us at the storage unit!

“Hang on!” I help Jughead carry the box into the trailer. We carry it over to the living room, and Salem scurries out of the way before getting crushed. Jughead chuckles in content. I’m floored - what could be in this box?

“I just scored a jackpot at the storage unit. Big time.” he explains to me as he starts to open the box. The lid comes off, and a bunch of dust comes flying up. I have to wave it away and cough. I don’t pick up on it at first, but…..it sounds like the dust has a voice. Something whispering harshly in Latin. Once the dust clears, we begin to empty out the box’s contents. It’s a giant stack of books, a spare Serpent jacket, and…..oh goodness, there’s a pistol in with the other items. Jughead daintily rests the pistol far away from us, but some part of him is intrigued. He decides to direct his attention to the books. “Look at the dates of these.” He flips open one book’s covered to reveal its publication date for me to examine. I take a closer look….. Then I go for another book. Then another. These books were all around from the time of the Reaper!

“Only thing is, I’m not sure if these books came from Forsythe Senior, or if they belonged to Grandpa Cohen - that’s my mom’s dad. The Serpent jacket and the gun scream Senior, but the books….” I turn the books to see their covers - they’re all about demons. I reach for one at random, opening it up. I now see why Jughead is confused about the ownership. Some of the front pages have been violently ripped out.

“You it’d be safe to ask your dad?” Jughead’s eyes bulge and he reaches for my arm. He shakes his head.

“I wasn’t kidding when I brought up how bad Senior was. Especially to Dad. He couldn’t hold down any sort of job because of his drinking problems, as well as his temper. Dad always said the best day of his life, before he met my mom, was when Senior passed away.” I run my fingers along the curves. Maybe the books did come from Jughead’s grandfather - that could explain the rips. If I only knew a spell that could resurrect book pages, or a way to determine who owned…. An idea comes to me. I turn page after page in this one book until I stop at a random section. There’s handwritten notes in the margins!

“You recognize the writing?” I hand the book over to him. He readjusts the beanie on his head before before bringing the book closer to his face. He squints at it, then has to extend his arm out. He tilts his head to the side.

“This might be Forsythe.” he mutters, turning to me. I don’t know what to say, I can’t organize my thoughts. Was it possible that his grandfather was…..a demon hunter? Or at least knew of demon hunting? I might be jumping to conclusions, but there has to be a reason for his abusive behavior. I didn’t see a Jones name in any of the Riverdale history books thus far, but perhaps I’m looking through the wrong sources. Maybe he got caught up in the town-wide hysteria from the Reaper scare?

Jughead opens up another book to a random page, his lips curling upward. “It’s in here too.” He sets the book down, going through another. Then another, and another. These books are all filled with notes.

“This is all way too much to process.” I say out loud. Jughead splits the book pile in half and shoves one side to me.

“Then we’ll divide and conquer. Takes notes on the notes, meet up when we’re done. Then, we can unravel more of the truth and craft our article.” I pick up a random book and stand up. I trace my finger down the filled-up margins. In the kitchen, Salem grumbles. I lower the book to stare at him, nonchalantly licking himself. I come to a realization. What if this book…..what if it can help me work with Salem?

I whip back around just as Jughead rises. I smile. “It sounds like a good plan to me.”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

Thanksgiving is roaming all over the air in the Jones’s trailer. We’ve got turkey in their little oven with some side dishes going on their stove top, while every other food item is cooking at my place, of which I’ve left Sabrina and Jughead in charge. I’m still not used to the overwhelming hospitality provided by the Joneses. Usually when I go to see the Spellmans, it’s awkward small-talk unless you bring up subjects regarding Church of Night conduct. There’s no civil conversation checking in on one another, nor is there a vibrant energy running through the residence (unless you count Ambrose drunkenly dancing his heart and soul out to David Bowie). But the moment I walked through the door this morning, I was, surprisingly, welcomed with open arms and helping hands. Even Hot Dog ran over to me and let me pet him for a while. To return the favor for FP and Gladys inviting us over, I decided to bring over some breakfast from the supermarket on the way back from work last night, that way the four of them can have a break and spend time together while I get going on the feast.

It only takes a short amount of time to get my items set up and going on the stove. Gladys and FP have me rotating in and out with them so I don’t wind up working the whole day. I get that I’m a guest in their homes, but they shouldn’t have to constantly put on a show just for me and Sabrina. But it’s a good system we have going so far, and it helps that we have more of the meal being prepared back in my kitchen.

I’m now getting to work on the green bean casserole, and I can’t help but watch in amusement at Gladys and how she interacts with JB. She’s braiding her daughter’s hair on the couch and transforming them into these things called “space buns” while the little one watches the Macy’s parade, all with the dog sitting at the girl’s feet. I don’t know why this intrigues me, but…. I’ve seen how Hilda and Zelda interacted with Sabrina in her youth. They did care for her dearly, and there were fun moments. But for the most part, they both seemed distant and cold. It was painfully obvious that they weren’t Diana Spellman. Their love wasn’t a mother’s love. It certainly isn’t what Gladys gives to JB.

I kind of envy how lucky that girl is to have two loving and supportive parents guiding her through every step of the way. I’m glad that she doesn’t have to endure many of the struggles FP and I did growing up in the trailer parks. Times are still rough, I can see that, but the family makes it work. They come out together as a strong family dynamic. It’s stronger than what I’ve seen with Hilda, Zelda, and Ambrose all having to pitch in to raise Sabrina, myself included. FP and Gladys made it strong for their children. And I…..

I never considered the possibility of having children. I haven’t considered settling down with anyone, let alone bring another person into my life, or my bed. I spent the 25 year period pretty much alone, not allowing a single person near me. My time with Hal left me feeling so tainted, so shattered, that the thought of engaging in romantic, or sexual, intimacy with someone else was off the books for me. Seeing families and couples so in love, before migrating to Greendale, made me want to gag, or it further reinforced how lonely I truly was. But since opening up the bakery, I’ve come across many children and their families, young couples too. I’ve seen how lucky these people are, and I see it now with FP and Gladys, and their kids. It makes me want to reconsider my whole outlook on the subject….

FP joins my side in the kitchen and leans on the counter top. He looks at his wife and daughter in pure adoration, his love for them glows in his eyes. After a few moments, he turns to me. “Gladys doesn’t get to gussy up JB’s hair often. Course, the kid wants to go with all the crazy in-trend options. I’m still trying to figure out what she means by space buns.” I wind up giggling at the comment, and he does too. “Did Sabrina ever demand you do this with her?”

“Not really….only if she needs a touch-up here or there.” I tell him, thinking back to the night before all of this. Back on her birthday…..sometimes I still wonder what would have happened if she did sign her name that night. I decide to lean my back against the stove, grabbing for my cup of coffee. I tap my fingers on the ceramic mug, “She’s pretty independent all things considered.”

“You got a smart girl, Ali. You’re doing well by her.” He’s still staring at Gladys and JB out in the living room. It causes me to glance back over for a small time.

I nudge him with my elbow. “You have smart kids too, you know.”

He chuckles nervously, “Yeah, they get that from Gladys, definitely not me.” He stops for a second so he can shift around to face me. He grabs for his own coffee and takes a sip. “She was always reading to the kids when they were little. She’s got such a love for reading…..encouraged the kids to develop a love for it. Especially Jughead. That boy can crank out stories like no tomorrow. I can barely string a sentence together.” He stops talking. He glares down at the stove top, gripping on tight to his mug. I knew FP struggled in school. I remember having him study with me for the SATs in the library because he just wanted a good enough score. He wanted something that could get him a ticket out of this town, and I did too. School was never his strong suit. It makes sense why he would want to push Jughead and JB to do better. He’s stepping up as the mentor, the guide, and the father he wanted for himself.

I set my mug down. “You’re a good father, FP.” He smirks at me, almost as if he doesn’t believe me. “I’m serious. You care about your kids, and it shows. You’re there to celebrate with them at their best, pick them back up at their worst, and everything in between.”

“I’m not all that great, Ali.” He reaches for his sobriety bracelet, twisting it around. He lifts his wrist up so I can see the bracelet. “This thing on my arm reminds me that I almost lost everything, that I need to deserve my second chance. And this was only a year or two ago. The kids grew up seeing me battle my drinking problems. I placed that burden on my family, and I’m gonna have to live with the consequences as long as I’m still breathing.” The bracelet glows in the morning sunlight, and so does….. I look down at FP’s hands. I can’t believe I didn’t notice these until now. When did he get burn marks on his hands? And where from?

Laughter echoes from the living room, pulling me out of my gaze at his hands. FP and I both turn to see JB clinging onto Gladys as she jumps onto the couch. Gladys plants a kiss on the girl’s forehead and allows her daughter to curl in. The little moment makes me smile. JB really is lucky. To my side, FP sets his mug down and turns back to me.

“I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for those kids. If it weren’t for Gladys. They were my rocks during my dark days….I’m working to become theirs. I want to support Jughead in his writing, see if he can get a good scholarship to transfer to boarding school or get into a good writing college. I want to help JB get through her teen years…..I have no clue if she’ll get into sports or the arts, but whatever she decides, I want to back her. And Gladys…..” He pauses, his sheepishness radiating through his eyes. He continues, “She’s worked so damn hard to support all of us. I’ve got more than one job too, but I’ve never seen anyone hustle as much as she does. She shouldn’t have to be the only breadwinner of the family. She deserves a break, more than anything.”

From the living room, Gladys pipes up, “What are you saying ‘bout my work ethic, Jones?” FP develops a smug on his face, I can’t tell if it’s out of embarrassment, before turning to his wife. I watch as she rises from the couch and crosses her arms. He moves over to the wall so that he can rest his elbow on the space above him. He smirks.

“Oh nothing.... Just tellin’ Alice over here that you’re a hard worker. And you deserve like….a million vacations. And….you look hot in that Pop’s uniform.” An evil grin appears on her face. I feel like I’m in the middle of something, but I don’t know how to escape. So I make an effort to slip around FP without them seeing me. Gladys picks up on my movement, her expression softening.

“Alice, go ahead and take a break. I can cover the kitchen from here.” She methodically makes her way over to him, moving straight past me. “Besides, I need to have a word with this man.”

“Is that so?” he mutters, fighting back a giggle. While it is a little amusing watching their playful banter, I fear this could get awkward really quick. Luckily for me, a small hand slips into my own, tugging me away from the scene.

JB whispers, “Come on, I’m sparing you from the thing.”

I turn to the little girl and raise my brow. I lean down, “What thing?”

She gestures to her parents, unaware of our interaction. “THAT thing.” My eyes widen - I’m well aware of the situation, but I’m overexaggerating my expression just for the sake of playing along with JB. I allow her to take me over to the couch so we can watch the parade together. Yet, I still wind up keeping my sights on Gladys and FP. There’s little to no personal space between them now. His arms coil around her waist. She rests one hand on his shoulder, the other one tracing over his beard. Those fingers move to his head and curl into his hair. He leans in to kiss her, but she’s quick on her feet. She gently shoves him away with a snort. She starts to back away towards their bedroom, her tongue rolled in her mouth. He’s shocked, she has him hooked.

“Oh that’s how you’re gonna play this game, Cohen?” Gladys doesn’t give him a verbal response. She just presses her lips together in a tight smirk, motioning for him to come to her with one finger. He makes no time to hesitate. He strides over to her, muttering something I can’t hear quite well, and lifts her up. She lets out a cackle and wraps her legs around his waist. The two kiss, caught up in their own little world.

I don’t realize how long I witness their moment until I hear JB fake gagging. “Ugh, gross.” she snickers. I finally direct my gaze down at the littlest Jones. She pulls her knees up to her shoulder blades. “They’re like the most PDA couple ever. Whenever Jughead and I yell at them to get a room, they always do that to tease us. Well….they don’t really do it around Jughead anymore since he told them he was “aro-ace”, or something like that.” She huffs, shrugging her shoulders. “Love’s weird.”

Her comment almost makes me laugh out loud, yet it also hits me hard. “You’re right about that.” I mutter. I glance back over at Gladys and FP, still in the kitchen enjoying their time together. Laughing in between kisses. Ruffling through each other’s hair. FP was right - Gladys and his kids really are his rocks. He looks so happy with her. Even with all those scars, on his hands and in his head, he’s at peace.

I decide to actually pay attention to the parade on TV, I don’t want to stare at these two and get myself all worked up over nothing. The floats that stroll through the streets of Manhattan numb my brain. The balloons flying over the city calm me down. When was the last time I’d watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade? Had I ever seen it before?

JB must be picking up on my state, because she comments, “Is this your first time watching the parade?”

I force myself to snap out of my daze. I turn to the girl, curling my lips upward. “First time in a while. Not since I was about your age.” She seems to buy into it, so she turns back to the TV, and so do I. Another float with some pop music singer stops in front of the Macy’s store on Herald Square. The music is upbeat but the lyrics don’t make much sense. People’s taste in music really has changed from when I was younger. I start to wonder, “Do….do they still have Snoopy?”

JB rotates her head up to me, all baffled. She scoffs, “Duh. It’s the _Peanuts_. They can’t not have Snoopy in the parade.” She goes back to witness the end of this little performance. The singer rides away, waving at adoring fans on the streets. Everyone’s in utter joy. They’re thankful to be alive, to be in the present with people they love.

I sigh. “Yeah….I guess you can’t.” The program cuts to Al Roker interviewing some TV star on some network. They’re talking about their show, how excited they are to bring their family or spouse, whatever, I’m not really listening. Hot Dog waddles over to us and rests himself between us. JB releases her hold on her knees, sending a small smile in my direction as she goes to pet the dog. The smile doesn’t last long. She lets out a little wince, her face scrunches up. She stops petting Hot Dog so she can grab a pillow on the other side of her, pulling it in towards her lap.

Concerned, I place my hand on her shoulder. I whisper, “Are…..are you okay, sweetie?”

She shrugs. “I’m fine. Just a little stomach cramp, that’s all.” That’s odd. What would cause her to have cramps? Do Gladys and FP know about this?

I let go of her shoulder. “If it gets worse, tell your parents. Okay?” JB winces again, quieter this time. She nods, then inches closer to me so she can rest her head on my shoulder. I freeze up - JB hasn’t done this with me before. When I came over for lunch just days ago, she was so shy around me, not wanting to invade my space. Now she…..she’s talking to me more. She’s curled up into me. A few years ago when I met Sabrina, even in our brief interactions, I found her quickly latching onto me. She was so willing to trust me, a stranger, and she let me become part of the family. Maybe JB is starting to trust me now, just at her own pace. I wrap my arm around the girl’s shoulders and allow her to nuzzle into me more. We stay like this until the parade is over.

Everything’s ready to go in the early afternoon. We all gather around in the living room to pile up our plates and enjoy the holiday together. It’s much more relaxed compared to any of the “family gatherings” or parties that I attended with the Spellmans. And Sabrina looks so at ease conversing with Jughead through a majority of the meal. Even JB engages in conversation with the teenagers, her stomach no longer as in pain as it was earlier. Hot Dog lays on the ground between the three of them, wagging his tail in full delight. Gladys and I gossip about work, FP continues catching me up on the lives of our classmates. At one point in the midst of his loosely detailed summary of what happened to Marty Mantle, Gladys pauses him to pick crumbs out of his beard. It causes him to chuckle, then he leans in to capture her lips. It’s little sweet moments that they have no qualms being so open about with others present, yet I feel like I’m intruding on their privacy just by observing it. Fortunately, JB waves for me to come join in on whatever Sabrina and Jughead are telling her. Jughead’s going on about some book he read for class. From what I get caught up on, it sounds like he’s explaining the plot of _The Hound of the Baskervilles_, one of the Sherlock Holmes novels. Sabrina provides her assessment of the book (she read it herself at Baxter), claiming that it really is not as scary as people make it out to be. “The dog’s not the real villain, Stapleton just used it to eliminate his competition.”

“But wasn’t the other guy part of the Baskerville family too?” JB tries to make sense of the story. “Why couldn’t he just split the fortune?”

“Because people are greedy, Jeebs.” Jughead readjusts his position on the carpet. He grabs a forkful of mashed potatoes and turkey and points the fork at his sister. “People promise things to one another, out of love or justice, then they wind up betraying them or use them for their own gain.” He finishes his statement before he shoves that food into his mouth.

JB scoffs, “That’s so rude.” It takes a lot of my strength to keep myself from bursting out into laughter, simply due to JB’s outlook on the matter. Her worldview is so simplistic, the minds these children have really do surprise me. And the fact that she’s so unapologetic about her opinion makes her stance much more believable. I wish I had that kind of backbone when I was her age.

The end of the day winds down gradually. For some reason, I wound up making three pies for the meal, too worried that one pie wouldn’t do justice for all six of us. Yet, we end up going through a pie and a half, and Gladys tells me to take home the other pie and a half. I’m a little shocked when she admits, “Pop made me take one home. So, you keep those pies for you and your girl.” Sabrina and I can finish up the one half, but one whole one? For now, I just nod and take her word for it. I stay a little longer to help FP and Gladys with the dishes before I turn in for the night. The moment Sabrina and I return to the trailer, she rushes into the bedroom to check in on Salem. I place the half-finished pie in the fridge, still holding onto the whole one. I still don’t know what to do with this - should Sabrina and I just finish it? Should I bring it to Pop Tate? A homeless shelter? I try to come up with alternatives in my head of people I could bring this to, my head is reeling, processing the events of the week. Chuck Clayton’s mysterious death, Keller letting me go at the station, Hiram calming me down. Hiram….

What are he and Veronica doing for their Thanksgiving? Are they with friends? Even family? I realize that I haven’t touched base with him since Tuesday at the station. And I’m not sure if Sabrina and Veronica have made much contact since their sleepover. Hiram and Veronica have done so much for us. The girls really have fostered a strong friendship, and, while Hiram and I did have quite the rocky start, he’s important to me now. He’s done so much for me alone. There has to be a way for me to thank him, beyond helping him avoid a false charge for alleged murder.

Salem meows from the bedroom. I turn to find Sabrina cradling her cat. “Everything okay, Ali?”

I look down at the pie in my hands, then I turn back up to her. I respond, “Yeah. When was the last time you talked with Veronica?”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

We arrive at Pembrooke around 7:30. I’m tempted to text V and let her know that Ali and I are making a surprise visit for breakfast, but Ali and I both think it’s best to truly keep our arrival under wraps. I hold onto the leftover pumpkin pie from yesterday as Ali leads us into the main lobby. We take a seat, and…..boy is it freezing in here. It doesn’t help much that the chilled pie rests on my legs. A good few minutes pass, and there’s no sight of Veronica or Mister Lodge. Should one of us go tell the lobbyman? Should we just head upstairs and knock on the door? I glance over next to me - Ali’s knee is bouncy. She has a tight grip on her knuckles. She keeps her sights on the walls looming over us while maintaining a steady breath. I’m starting to get worried about her.

“What’s wrong, Ali?” She comes back to reality and looks at me. Her mouth parts then closes. She shakes her head.

“Nothing, sweetie. It’s….it’s just cold in here.” She releases a shaky exhale. She lets go of her knuckles and coils them around her elbows. She drags her nails back and forth over her bicep. I know she’s not giving me a full answer, so I raise my brow at her. She sees this, and her face falls. “Sabrina….”

“I can text V right now and have her come let us in!” My voice comes off much more perkier than what I hoped. Ali huffs then stares down at her jeans. I tilt my head, “Are you really that concerned that Mister Lodge won’t be here?” She lifts her head up slowly, then she lets go of her elbows. Her hands rest on her kneecaps. She’s not answering me, at least not right away.

“I don’t want to freak him out. That’s all. Or Veronica while we’re at it.” she finally admits. She directs her gaze to me, “Both he and his daughter have made an effort to make us welcome here. And he….I’d be in a really bad place right now if it weren’t for…..” she keeps pausing in the middle of her phrase. I wonder what she’s referring to, what he did to help her. She bites her lip, then goes on, “I just don’t know if bringing over a thing of pie is enough to say “thank you”. I’m still trying to learn how exactly I should be interacting with…..people I had a hard time getting along with in high school. Especially people who’ve changed. Much more than I would have thought.” She stops talking. She bites the inside of her cheek and digs her nails into her jeans. I get it now - she wants to make things right with Mister Lodge, but she doesn’t know how. She doesn’t think that what we’re doing now isn’t good enough. But I know that’s not true. She allowed V to stay over at our place. She came up with this idea to visit them for Black Friday. In my eyes, Ali is making an effort to…..not be so lonely anymore.

I take a hold of her hand closest to me, using my other hand to secure the pie in my lap. I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re doing everything you can, Ali. You’re really…..you’re trying. And that’s what matters. I’m happy that you want to do more. All of this…..with my birthday, and coming here…..” I feel her fingers curl around mine. I notice her staring down at the pie. What she told me just a couple of days ago, about how she felt so trapped in the past, how she’s panicking over not doing enough to care for me…..

I give her this reassurance: “You say you haven’t enjoyed enough of the present. But you are, Ali. You’re just doing it at your own pace. You’re coming to terms with the present your own way. And I’m proud of you for that.” Her expression goes soft, not out of fear but out of…..appreciation. I mean every word, at the same level when we had our brief talk at Pop’s the night of V’s incident. I know she’s terrified of the world coming after me, but I’m just as terrified of her falling apart. Not finding the strength to go on. But I’m here for her. And so is Mister Lodge, as is Mister and Missus Jones. She just needs to hear it.

She reaches for my face and pulls it in so she can plant a kiss on my forehead. I hear her tell me, “Sabrina Spellman, don’t ever let the world change you and your kind heart.” I wind up grinning ear to ear. I’m relieved that she sees how much I care for her….but a new sense makes me lose the grin fast. A sense of dread, guilt….. Am I really kind? Was what I did with the Weird Sisters to those football players kind? Was what I did with V to Chuck Clayton kind? Was going against family obligation to sign my name away….. I like to think of myself as optimistic. I like to give others encouragement and to remind them of how they are enough in this world. I give others my love…..and yet, I haven’t given any to myself. I still think about my birthday. Why I’m here and why Ali is here. Why Chuck is dead. I made those things happen, I recognize my mistakes. Why can’t I let them go and forgive myself?

Ali lifts my head up. She looks so puzzled, does she sense that something’s wrong with me? She strokes my cheek with her thumb, “Hey, what is it?”

I struggle to find the right words. How do I explain this guilt? I’m fully aware that Ali will listen and empathize with me, that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried that if I begin to open up about Salem and the Conway House, about what Jughead and I are investigating…. No. Ali’s past can’t be connected to that house. I haven’t heard her mention not a single thing about that place. But what if it was? If I tell her, would it make her even more upset? Would she ever forgive me?

I go to open my mouth, to make up some excuse for my pained expression, but something behind us prevents me from speaking. Something…..no, it’s someone….approaches us. “Alice?” Ali lets go of my face to turn and find….. Mister Lodge! He is here, but definitely not how I pictured. He’s in athletic wear and not in a suit. His face is all flushed and glossy. He unzips his jacket to cool himself off, exposing his arms. He has a tattoo? Mister Lodge turns to me next, “Sabrina! What brings you both here?”

Ali and I stand up, I hold the pie in my arms. We start speaking, about to cut each other off. We stop and turn to one another. Should she tell him, or should I? I go ahead and address him, rushing through my words, “We had leftover pie from yesterday and wanted to see if you and V wanted some!” He still looks so much in shock. I hold the pie out in his direction, a weary smile forming on my face. Mister Lodge smiles too.

“My….I don’t know what to say.” He fixates his jacket around his waist, fumbling with the sleeves. He looks back up at Ali, “Are you sure?”

“We have enough back at the trailer for a whole other feast. No need to fear over that.” Ali explains to him. She glances over at me briefly, then she takes a step towards him. “Besides, I….uh, we….we wanted to check in on you. And Veronica. See how you were holding up since…..” Her voice goes out. Holding up since what? What could Ali be referring to? Mister Lodge starts massaging the area on his wrist where his watch sits. I can’t help but take note on….. Something’s on his wrist. Another tattoo? It’s not as big or as grand as the design on his shoulder, but this one is….different. It takes a little time squinting at it, enhancing my view with some magic, but what I read is this: **A.S. H.L. 11.20.17**

Mister Lodge grins wide. He lifts a finger, indicating for us to wait, as he goes over to one of the people at the front desk. I hear him say, “Have this pie heated up. And bring dining ware for four. Ring when it’s ready.” He motions for me to come over. I don’t move right away, but Ali nudges me forward. The front deskman meets me halfway to relieve me of this pie in my arms. The deskman leaves the lobby, and Mister Lodge pulls something out of his pocket. He holds a set of keys in his hands, holding it out to me. “Sabrina, why don’t you go ahead and see Veronica?” I look down at the keys. There’s so many, how will I know which one will let me into his home? The lights reflect off the metal of the keys, it’s almost blinding. Maybe it’s just my nerves acting up.

Ali places her hand on my shoulder. I turn to her as she whispers, “It’s okay, Sabrina. We should be following you up shortly.” With that little reassurance, I just nod at her. I take the keys from Mister Lodge, thanking him, and start to make my way to the stairs by the back. Yet, I wind up stopping behind one of the columns. Why would Mister Lodge and Ali need to stay down here longer. Without wanting to make noise, I lean against the column, using a little enhanced attention to listen in on their conversation.

I’m only able to catch blips. _They didn’t come back to try and question you further, did they? No. Haven’t seen Keller since he dragged us in. That’s good. And you? Did Keller pay a visit to you or Sabrina? No, actually. Have you talked about it with her? I tried, but…..I don’t know, Hiram. Something was off about Sabrina. I had to drop the whole matter about Chuck…._

I push myself away from the column. I peer over, they’re still caught up in their talk that neither one of them sees me. Ali said she was at the station with Sheriff Keller after they found Chuck’s body. Why was Mister Lodge there too? Was…..was Ali doing something with him? Was that why she spent so much time away from the trailer? This is all too confusing. I want to learn more, but it wouldn’t be right of me to keep eavesdropping like this. Also, I do want to go see V.

I check one more time to make sure neither one of the adults see me, then I slip away. I practically know my way up to the Lodge residence at this point, so the hike up the stairs is a piece of cake. It takes only a matter of minutes before I reach the front door, my hand holding the keys shakes. I look down….did Mister Lodge indicate which key would let me in? So many sit on the ring, it could take all day before I find the right one. I could use magic to narrow down my options. I could just knock on the door, or just wait until Mister Lodge and Ali make their way up the stairs. I wind up deciding to just give one key a shot. It doesn’t go through. I go for the next one. It goes in, but the door won’t budge. I fumble with another one, then another one. “Stupid keys.” I mumble to myself, going key after key.

I’m about to give the next one a shot when the door flies open. I gasp and jump back, only to have V standing on the other side, just as much in shock. When she sees that it’s me, she softens. “‘Brina.”

“Hey, V.” I smile. We both wind up laughing, then I step in through the threshold. We throw our arms around each other for a tight embrace.

She holds onto my face. “What are you doing here?”

“Ali and I wanted to surprise you guys. We have pie, too!”

“Oh, ‘Brina, that’s very sweet.” She lets go of my face so she can shut the door. “You gave me quite the scare though. I thought Daddy had forgotten his keys, or if it was a burglar trying to break in.”

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” V shakes her head. She readjusts her silk robe.

“Oh, no! I’ve been up for a little while now. Catching up on from free reading.” V walks over to the dinner table and sits down. That’s when I notice a copy of _The Secret History_ by Donna Tartt on the table. I take a seat near by, and she pulls the book closer to her. “Just helps to reset my mindset after…..” She goes quiet. She starts to fidget with her pearls, curling her fingers around the necklace. So she does know what happened to Chuck, or maybe she’s having second thoughts about all of it.

I finally break my own silence, “How are you holding up, V?” She lets go of her pearls, still keeping her gaze outward, nowhere really. Her hands fall onto her lap, she coils in on herself and shrugs.

“I’m doing better. I haven’t thought about our incident as often. You know, ‘Brina, I was half expecting him to call the cops on us. Or even bring Principal Weatherbee into the whole manner.” She winds up looking down at her hands, massaging out her knuckles. She lets go of the breath she held onto. “It was actually Kevin who texted me about Chuck’s death. I didn’t want to believe a word he was saying…..granted he’s the Sheriff’s son, so why would he lie about this kind of news? Still, at the time, I thought it was only an exaggeration…..then I turned on RIVW, and…..” She lifts her head up and faces me. I would have expected her eyes to be all watery and turning pink. But they’re not. Her face is neutral. I hear her foot tapping on the floor. She doesn’t appear shaken up at all.

V turns back to me. “I know Salem did it, ‘Brina.” My mouth flies open. She knows? How? I want to ask, but she goes on, “Some part of me just guessed. He stayed behind to clean up our…..my mess. He protected us that night.” She attempts to put on a smile to not petrify me. “I thought I’d be so upset about what happened. I haven’t shed a tear, even when my father finally returned home. I felt so…..numb.” Well, numb wouldn’t be the way I feel about everything. But V looks so expressionless, so…..dead. I start to wonder, if she knew about Salem’s part, if she had that gut feeling….does that mean…..

“Was there anything else?” my voice comes out dry, my throat scratches. V looks all confused when I pause to cough. I speak once more, “I mean, did you….did you experience….any….” I can’t process the words to make them come out. So instead, I rub a finger under my nostril. She doesn’t get it at first, no matter how many times I make the gesture. Finally, I lower my finger down to my lips, indicating a straight line down from my nostrils. Her eyes light up.

“Did you get sick?”

“No! It…..it was a nosebleed.” I confess to her, clenching my fist. V doesn’t really respond - she just takes my hand and makes that _oh, how unfortunate_ face. Yet, it is so sympathetic.

“Is Salem with you? Is he downstairs?”

I shake my head at her. “Left him back at the trailer. I hope he doesn’t cause trouble while I’m gone.” I drift off, thinking back to my talk with Salem a few days ago. He said he did it to protect me. To make sure Chuck wouldn’t pull the same stunt again. I thought taking Salem on would help me move past the homesickness. To help get my mind off Greendale. To relieve me of that stress. Turns out Salem has only caused me more stress since taking him into my life.

I wind up expressing my frustration to her, “He’s been so antsy lately. He acts on his own accord, without taking consequences into consideration. And he still sees nothing positive about Ali. Or Jughead.” I pause, shaking my head. My fingers go through my hair as I lower my head. I mutter, “None of his views make any sense. I don’t know how to control him, V. If only there were a How to Train Your Familiar book in good reach.”

“My father actually has a whole collection of witch books in his study.” I release my hair and lift my head. I half expect V to start laughing, as if it were a joke. But she’s not. She gestures over to another part of the room. I follow her hand in that direction, only to find the door leading to Mister Lodge’s study. I’ve seen him go in there already, and nothing about it struck out to me. If V is right, could there be any books regarding how to work with familiars? Would Mister Lodge even let me go in there and browse through his collection?

V takes my hand, “I’m serious, ‘Brina. You shouldn’t have to hassle with Salem all by yourself. Let me help you out; he at least trusts me to be around you.” She has a point - Salem, oddly enough, has a soft spot for her. After all, he did go after Chuck for us…..maybe it really was for her. Maybe she could reason with him about his aggressive behavior. I place my other hand on top of hers and allow myself to smile.

“Whatever you got, V, I’ll take it.” She giggles in response. Something must have popped into her head, because she lights up. V grabs onto both of my hands.

“Not to change the subject on you, ‘Brina, but….have you been to any of these outlet shops in town? I was thinking, since it’s Black Friday, we can hit them up! Maybe get our minds off the whole Chuck situation, even. Who knows, we could find a bookshop, or a shop run by rogue witches that could help us find some books about familiars.”

My mood lifts. I’ve been to the shops downtown in Greendale, but it makes me wonder what Riverdale has to offer. It could give me a chance to not focus on the bad for a while. And it could give Ali some time with Mister Lodge for….whatever it is they’re doing together. Before I can provide her with an answer, the front door opens. Mister Lodge enters, standing aside so Ali can enter. I almost forgot that Ali hasn’t been up in Pembrooke yet - she’s in utter shock examining the Lodge’s residence, the same way I was when I first entered. She takes a moment to study the architecture, the cleanliness. She doesn’t say a word to him, or to us over here on the other side of the room. She wanders over to the back of the couch and leans against it, all silent. It takes her a while before Ali even notices me and V at the table. She stands up straight and clears her throat.

“Breakfast should be up soon, if you girls are okay with that.” she mumbles, still so much in awe of the place. It makes me grin. V releases one hand and stands up, and I follow in suit.

“Suppose I better get changed.” She leads me towards her bedroom. Then she addresses her father, “I’ll be out in a minute or two, Daddy.”

“Hang on - Sabrina….” I stop in my path and face Mister Lodge. He holds his index fingers up then heads towards his study. He opens the door and disappears inside, leaving the door slightly ajar. Ali starts to take some interest, moving her head to get a better glimpse of what’s behind those doors. I can’t blame her - I’m interested in what could reside in that study as well. I wonder what kind of books Mister Lodge has collected, what areas of witchcraft he would hope to study, or even teach to V.

I’m so caught up in Ali’s state of being that I don’t even notice Mister Lodge coming towards me. His voice recaptures my attention, “This came in the mail for you!” I look down at his hands and see that there’s a letter in his hands from…..from Greendale! Home! I snatch the letter and examine it. The stamp is from the Mortuary. I recognize Ambrose’s handwriting without having to contemplate over it. I could cry, I’m so happy!

I hold the letter against my chest and squeal in delight. “Thanks, Mister Lodge!” He returns a gracious smile. V reaches from behind to take my hand, and we go into her bedroom. She heads over to her closet to rifle through her clothes and find an outfit for today. I flop onto her bed and run my fingers over the writing on the envelope. The letter itself feels so….light. Well, what would I expect? Whenever Aunties wrote a letter to anyone, really, they never made their letters super long. They usually try to condense their letters to a page or two. But I haven’t been home in weeks. Surely, there has to be some updates about life in Greendale, or about my trial.

“Don’t wait on me, girl!” V calls out from the other side of the room. “Go ahead! You can read it out if you want!” I take V’s word for it and start to rip open the letter. A small folded stack of papers comes out of the envelope. I start to unfold and read its contents, sunlight glimmering onto Ambrose’s handwriting. I start to read out loud:

** _Dearest cousin, _ **

** _Hope those mortals in Riverdale are treating you well. Life is so boring out here in Greendale without your perky spirit. Aunties have been going at me nonstop about work and Church business. ‘Course, I would prefer to have my own peace and quiet, but knowing my stupid restriction…. Oh well._ **

V interrupts, “What restriction?”

“He got bound to our house for attempting to blow up the Vatican.”

“Wow.” V remarks. “Talk about a real rebel without a cause.”

“I have a feeling he’d like you.” I tell her. I wonder what Ambrose would think if he and V met. I continue on with the letter.

**_I don’t have much detail on your trial though - Aunties won’t say a word about it. And no one from the Council has dropped by to discuss anything with them. So, sorry for the poor update. But otherwise, business has been booming for the Mortuary. Oh! This is actually something exciting that I must fill you in on, ‘coz. Get this - man’s body shows up at our morgue, his parents want to hold a funeral for him. So, I help arrange that, and this pet lizard thing shows up. I think it’s the man’s familiar, just a guess. But after the funeral, this man (around the dead guy’s age) approaches me. Turns out, he and dead guy used to date, and that he’s a witch, no joke. Well, things lead to another, and now….I kinda got myself a partner now. He’s coming over at some point to meet Aunties for dinner later, but we’re playing that by ear._**

My voice dies out, I continue to skim through. Ambrose barely mentions anything about Harvey, or Roz and Susie. When he does bring up Aunties, it’s only about work. He does say that they talk about me, but briefly. I check the envelope for any hope of an extra letter from my aunts. Nothing. I flip through the pages Ambrose wrote. No handwriting belonging to either one of them. Ambrose ends the letter wishing me the best, and if I still have Dad’s necklace, to still always hold onto it in case I need it. His warmest regards don’t lift my mood. The fear of not knowing if my aunts worry about me being out here, or would bother to care at all, leaves me unsettled. It makes me feel so lonely, even though I have V, and Ali. And even Salem.

**_They shouldn’t make you feel this way_**, the deep voice creeps into my head, the same way it did at the library just last weekend. **_If they don’t care about your wellbeing, what gives them the right to consider themselves your family?_**

“You okay, ‘Brina?” V reaches for my forearm. The haze in my head fades, it takes another moment for my head to clear up. I look down and realize that Ambrose’s letter has crumbled in my hands. Panicking, I do my best to smooth out the letter before placing it down next to me. I would just tell her I’m fine, but….

“I don’t know, V.” I sound like a toad. “I don’t know….” I clench my fist and force myself to breathe. The forced breathing helps to calm me down a bit, but my head still has that clogged up sensation. Like whatever voice entered my head is still latched onto me. Practically bound to me.

“Hey, come here.” V lowers my head onto her shoulder as she wraps her arm around my shoulder. She rubs my arm in some effort to soothe me. I feel like I could weep, but my eyes haven’t produced any water. My eyebags are heavy though, and my face is like plastic wrap.

After a minute or two, I lift my head. “You know what? We shouldn’t let this, or Chuck Clayton ruin our day. I want to have my first Black Friday…..well, holiday season in general, in Riverdale be a good one!”

V takes my hands again and smiles. “Couldn’t agree more, girl.”

“Now, which shops did you say were good around here?”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

I’m so caught up in Hiram’s study that I don’t notice Sabrina and Veronica slip out of the living and dining room. The whole place, really, has some hold over me. I knew Hiram was the type of person to live a luxurious lifestyle, but this….this is so minimalistic. Simple but elegant. Not too in your face. His study, though….

Hiram strides over to me. “The letters came in Wednesday afternoon.” I break my gaze and turn to him. He still has a note in his hands….one written out to me by Zelda Spellman herself. “I would have brought them over, but I wanted to keep an eye on Veronica. She looked so shaken up when I came back after our trip to the police.”

I take the note from him, running my fingers over the envelope. I can smell Zelda’s perfume wafting through the air. “Were you just here for Thanksgiving, then?”

He shakes his head. “Gave my staff the day off. Veronica and I just went to have a turkey dinner at Pop’s. I needed to get out of this place, and it was good for my daughter to not be so pent up here.” He wanders over to the dinner table and rests his forearm on the back of the chair. I can’t help but stare at the tattoo on arm. Did he have that in high school? I don’t recognize the symbol, it’s probably related to the Lodge family in some fashion, like how Gladys has Ouroboros on her wrist.

I have to stop staring after a bit when he starts speaking again, “Some of Veronica’s classmates stopped by to give her their condolences, mostly the football players. It was led by Fred’s son, Archie….” He pauses for a second to smirk. I take it he doesn’t have a high opinion of this boy, granted, he and Fred Andrews never got along. I’ve only met Archie a couple of times at Pop’s, but he seems like a genuine, good-hearted kid, just like his dad. Hiram loses the smirk, “But he was gracious enough to arrange the gathering, so I will give him credit for that. Even Marty Mantle’s boy showed up…..he and Veronica were talking for a while after the boys had disappeared.” I remember FP telling me something about Marty having a boy, Reggie. Was this the same boy that played in the soccer game from a couple of weeks ago?

Hiram pushes himself up away from the chair, placing his hands on his hips. “But, now that I know my daughter’s feeling better, we can get back to Hal?” Well, that’s good to hear. I nod my head in agreeance. As much as I needed time off to not focus on my demons (quite literally) for one holiday, and to bond more with FP and his family, I’m ready to jump back into this hunt, for good. Hiram smiles, then he starts to back away towards his bedroom. “I should be back in a couple of minutes. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. And if our breakfast is ready, feel free to let them in.” I agree to do so, and he gives me a thumbs up before disappearing.

It’s just me now in the living room, it’s so quiet up here. Maybe that’s why Hiram prefers to spend his time here - the serenity of this place is soothing. I direct my attention back down to the letter, wondering what Zelda could possibly want to fill me in on. Unless there’s anything regarding Sabrina’s trial or my bakery, I can’t imagine why she would want to write to me. I try to run my fingernail through the sticky part, but it’s glued on tight. I try again, but to no avail. I bless out of frustration. I need something to open this up, like a pair of scissors or a letter opener. I pause, turning my head back to the study. Would Hiram have a letter opener in there? Should I….

My feet tip toe over to giant white doors. He still left the door open ajar. I whip my head back to the other side of the room. It’s idiotic, I know, because Veronica and Sabrina are in her room, and Hiram’s in his. No one is out here to witness me slip in, but still…. I push the door open, it squeaks a little, making my heart pace. I turn my head again, just to make sure no one would hear it. It’s still radio silent, so I’m in the clear. I squeeze my way through the door, pausing as I glance around this new area of Pembrooke.

His study is not what I pictured. It’s not bright and airy like the living room. It’s shielded by curtains, only a small fracture of light seeps in through the Venetian blinds. He has two bookcases filled up with….well, everything you could imagine. The fireplace isn’t up and going, but it takes up a good portion of one wall. And, above his desk across the way is a portrait of Veronica.

I become so distracted that I almost forget why I came here. “Letter opener, letter opener….” I mumble to myself as I make my way over to his desk. I’m careful not to touch anything, only just eyeballing the items scattered around. I don’t find what I’m looking for on his desk, so I make my way over to one of his bookcases. He has a variety of stuff we read in high school and some classic children’s literature. Maybe he held onto it for Veronica? I can’t help but become mesmerized by his book selections, so many titles that don’t sound like works Hiram would read. Yet again, nothing about Hiram now is what I would have thought when I first met him. I scan through the shelves, stopping at one book. When did he own a copy of _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_? The book itself is huge, it must be combined with the other story, _Through the Looking Glass_.

Out of instinct, I reach for it, gracefully gripping onto the binding of the book. It lays one of my forearms as I peel open the cover. I read the book growing up, and I always wondered whether my mother gave me my name based on this girl. I flip through the pages, memories of my experience reading this book coming back to me. I let out a tiny laugh looking at some of these pictures. I fly through the first story, following Alice on her journey through this Looking Glass world and shaking her poor kitten. I stop at one part towards the end - I forgot Lewis Carroll added his own poetry into his works. This one stands out, not because the poem itself is weird, but….. Hiram has this one marked in particular. He has one portion of it circled, one that leaves me puzzled.

** _She still haunts me, phantomwise,_ **

** _Alice moving under skies_ **

** _Never seen by waking eyes._ **

“Veronica loved that book growing up.” Hiram enters the study, catching me off guard. He doesn’t appear angry, or disappointed that I came in without any permission. Instead, he looks so composed. More laid back. I’m so used to seeing him all formal in his attire, that I’m shocked to find him in a red sweater and jeans. He strides over to me, his eyes going down to the book in my hands. “She’d practically beg me to read both Alice stories to her whenever I had the opportunity. Had to do the character voices and everything. And I’d try to read it to her in both English and Spanish.” I almost let out a snort - it’d be interesting to imagine Hiram voicing one of the lively residents of Wonderland, especially in Spanish. I decide to close the book and keep it close to my side. I might ask him later about why he had that one random passage of the last poem marked.

I leave my mouth hanging at him, trying to formulate my explanation. I did nothing wrong, I didn’t steal anything. Yet, I feel like I just invaded his safe space. “I didn’t mean to come snooping in here.” I manage to get the words out. I feel Zelda’s letter crunched in between my arm and the Alice book. “I was trying to find a….”

“A letter opener?” he finishes for me. I nod, guilty as charged. But he doesn’t show off any anger. He just shoots me a sympathetic grin. “No worries, it’s buried in my desk somewhere. I’ll get it for you.” He wanders over to his desk and starts to go through his drawers. He glances up to me, still keeping his eyes on the book. “Oh, and if you were trying to find anything on witchcraft and demonology, you might have better luck over on that shelf.” He points over to the other bookcase across the room. Oh, well that makes more sense. One shelf dedicated to the witch stuff, another to the human stuff.

I make my way over to the other shelf. “How did you get all of these books?”

“Accumulated them over the years. There’s only a few I kept from my time at the Academy, but the rest….either passed down from family or from what I collected on my own.” They’re all titles I’m not familiar with, a majority either in Latin or Spanish. But there’s a couple I recognize that also sit on Zelda and Hilda’s bookshelves back at the Mortuary. My eyes go to one book on demonology, and, just for curiosity’s sake, I pull it out. It’s all dusty when I go to open it, I have to wipe off some with my free hand. Then, at the corner of the title page, lies a name. This book belonged to this mysterious Jaime Luna person as well.

By this time, Hiram comes to my side, bearing a letter opener in his hands. It takes me a good, solid second to register what’s happening before I respond with, “Oh, thanks.” I rest this demon book on top of Alice, allowing me the free hand to grab for the opener. This switch prompts Hiram to grab for the books so that I have more space. It’s a gesture I don’t expect, but…..it’s sweet and thoughtful. Now, I finally run the opener through the top of the envelope, revealing Zelda’s words trapped in a cream-colored interior. I reach for the letter with the pinch of my finger tips and strip it out of the envelope…..

The content itself is smaller than what I pictured. I thought Zelda would send me more than just…..a sheet. Maybe two. But nothing’s written on the back side, or what’s visible to me. I glance up at Hiram, my heart racing, hoping for some sort of explanation. He’s just as much in confusion. He shrugs his shoulders, not sure of what to say. The anticipation is starting to wear on me, so I just go for it. I flip the letter open and take a minute to read what Zelda wanted to send to me.

It’s pointless. There’s nothing about Sabrina’s trial, or whether the Spellman Sisters dreadfully wait for their niece to return home under their care. All Zelda provides me is a basic update on how life is in Greendale. How my bakery is still there without much activity. Nothing more, nothing less. I lean back against the wall, absorbing what I just read. How can Zelda not show any worry? How can she be so careless about her niece’s well-being? Sabrina’s witchcraft is at stake with the Church of Night, and yet she doesn’t touch on it whatsoever. I know my hunt for Hal has taken a recent priority of my time here in Riverdale, but I’ve at least made the effort to care about Sabrina. I’m trying……

“Well? Any updates on the trial?” Hiram joins my side, looking down at the letter. I could throw down the letter and scream. I could make this fireplace blaze up and toss Zelda’s heartless letter in there. But I’m frozen in my place. Not a single tear sheds, but I can feel my cheeks getting heavy. I curl the letter in my fingers, the metal opener resting in my palm.

“No.” I spit out like sour vinegar. If _Harry Potter_ was a real story, and if those Howler letters were a real thing, I could send one to Zelda Spellman right now. Yet again, Greendale is not that far away. I could just drive back over and have that imaginary fight with that woman in my head a reality. I could go back…..but I can’t leave Riverdale just yet. I don’t want to. I can’t abandon Sabrina here, I can’t break my contract with Hiram and let Hal run loose. And…..I can’t leave FP without saying goodbye, not again. And especially not now that I’m friends with his wife, and his little girl has somehow wormed her way into my heart…..

I thought coming back to Riverdale would make me more reclused from society. I thought it would make me realize that I should just stay in Greendale for the rest of my life. But being back here, bonding with people that I never thought I would ever become acquainted with….. There’s too much at stake now. And I won’t let Hal take back any reign over this little town.

I don’t realize my eyes had closed, that I’m holding onto a breath. I don’t realize that my fingernails have dug deep into my palm until Hiram places a hand on my shoulder. The air floods out of me, my nails release from their nasty grip on my flesh. I’m gasping for air, and….oh shit, the tips of my nails are tinted in blood. There’s four little red crescents on my palm, and they sting. I turn my palm quickly towards the wall, just so Hiram won’t see any more of my anxiety manifest. I push myself away from the wall and hold out the letter opener to him. “Typical Zelda, won’t say much.” I tell him, pretending like I didn’t just have a nasty fit of anxiety.

“Figures.” he scoffs, “She didn’t provide me with anything either when I spoke with her on the phone last week. She’s aware that I participate with the Council, so I’m just as much in shock as you.” He huffs and reclaims the metal rod from my hand. “But don’t let it get to you. If I’m being honest, Alice…..I think you’re doing a wonderful job watching over Sabrina. You care for that girl, and it shows.” A calmness runs through me. Hiram thinks I’m doing alright with her? Well, I’m glad someone has paid attention to my efforts. I sigh in relief, hoping I don’t break down crying in front of him. I’ve already cried way too much in front of Hiram, I don’t need to give him another water works show. I don’t need to demand more sympathy from him. So I just mutter a “thanks” and allow the corners of my mouth to raise. He’s right, I shouldn’t have to worry about what’s going on in Greendale. My priority is to look after Sabrina in Riverdale. And I need to do everything in my power to keep Hal from finding her and making her another agent in his chaos.

XXXXXXXX

We wind up spending all day with the Lodges. Sabrina headed out with Veronica to go Christmas shopping in town while Hiram and I remained in Pembrooke to do more research. I told him about my disappointing scavenge in the town library regarding the Reaper, which he admitted did not come off as a surprise to him. “Either the town’s done a good job at hiding its dark history, or no books have been made to cover the subject.” he expressed with a sigh. Luckily, he’s got enough material of his own for us to dive into what could really be Hal’s true nature. If he isn’t your average familiar, he has to be something along the lines of a demon. So that’s where Hiram and I began to dig through every demonology book he owned.

Once we scratched the surface, we decided to go back and break down Hal’s kills when he was with me. Hiram pulled out a whiteboard (he has it primarily for his own business, but he wasn’t currently utilizing it, so it helps to have a visual) and began to map out a timeline. We started from when I released Hal on Halloween back in ‘92, then we mark out the attacks, the kills - Hiram, some Bulldog I don’t remember all too well, then Darryl Doiley, another random classmate who irritated me, then Hermione, then Penelope. It all happened within a span of 5 to 6 weeks, and I left Riverdale in mid December. It’s been about a week since Hal’s release, so now it’s all a matter of how long it will take for his next attack….if he really did start his comeback with Chuck Clayton.

By the time Hiram and I finish outlining a timeline, it’s around 9 pm. We haven’t eaten since breakfast this morning, and we have no clue if the girls fed themselves during their trip to town. We wind up ordering takeout from some Chinese venue downtown, and we both end up scarfing it down unapologetically. If I’m being honest, it’s so late now and I’m way too exhausted to drive back to the trailer at this hour. I hate acting irresponsible like this, but I’d rather drive back when I’m more awake and in the mood. I tell Hiram this, and I ask if he can arrange a lift back to the trailer for me and Sabrina.

“Why don’t you two just stay here for the night?” he offers out of the blue. “That way the girls can spend more time together, and we can make more progress on our work.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. I mean, I do appreciate the offer, but I feel I’ve already overstayed my welcome. Besides, I’m not sure if Sabrina’s new feline friend will make out okay by itself for so long.

Hiram nods at me. “Please, you and Sabrina are more than welcome here anytime you wish.”

“Okay. Do you want me to take any sheets or blankets so I can makeshift a bed on the couch?” Hiram shoots me a baffled expression. I don’t really see it as a huge deal, so I make it clear. “It’s not my first time couch surfing, Hiram. I’ll be alright.”

“Alice, no. Take my bed for the night.” he insists. “I’ll end up crashing out on one of these loveseats anyway, so my bedroom is all yours. Mi casa es tu casa.” I don’t know what to say. Hiram was never the type of person to allow classmates, or even strangers, to spend the night at his place. I don’t think he even let another female share the bed with him until he married Hermione. Yet again, Hiram and I are no longer the same people we were in high school. I’m still not sold a hundred percent on the idea of spending the night here at Pembrooke, only for the fear of invading anymore of the Lodges’ privacy. Hiram must have read my expression, or my mind, because he adds in, “I even got a bathtub if you want to use it tonight.”

Hang on - a bathtub? To _my_ full disposal? Fuck it, I’m sold. “Okay, you win. I’ll stay the night.” I tell him as I get up from my spot on the floor. I smooth down my jeans and shake my legs, they’re all asleep from sitting down for too damn long. He rises as well, picking up our myriad of notes and books. I sigh, “I’m gonna go tell the girls about our plans, then I will definitely hit you up on that bath.”

“Of course.” he beams at me. “I’ll have Veronica grab some sleepwear for you. There should be towels and a robe already in the bathroom. If not, let me know.” I thank him with a smile, then I head out of the study at last. Don’t get me wrong, the study is so cozy, but I need a change of scenery after a full day of research how to hunt down a former familiar that may or may not be a demon. I make my way over to Veronica’s room and lightly tap on the door. It squeaks a little as I open it.

I find both girls lying down on Veronica’s bed watching some 80s horror flick. From what I can hear, it sounds like _The Evil Dead_. The girls pause the movie so I can have their undivided attention. “Sabrina, would you be alright staying here for the night?”

“Really?” Sabrina perks up. Veronica is just as keen.

I turn to the other girl. “Your father offered his hospitality, and I wanted to make sure it was acceptable for you.”

“Of course! ‘Brina and I were planning on having a cult classic movie marathon anyway!” Well, good. They both seem to be okay with this decision. Only one concern lingers in my head, though.

“Are you okay with leaving Salem all alone back at the trailer?”

“He’ll be alright.” Sabrina shifts around on the bed. “We actually stopped by the trailer earlier to check in on him. If needed, I can have Jughead pay a visit in the morning.”

“Okay, sweetie. I’ll be in the other room if you girls need anything later.” I leave the two girls to finish their movie as I make my way into Hiram’s bedroom. It’s so clean, just like the rest of this place. Although, there is a little bit of messiness, like his study - some books are on top of the bed. It smells like cologne in here, but it’s not so poignant. It’s quite nice and subtle. I take another minute or two to examine his bedroom, it’s…..it’s actually pretty similar to my own back in Greendale. Some clothes in a hamper in the corner, books on the bed, curtains drawn shut. Another minute passes, and there’s a knock on the door. Veronica shows up to bring some sleepwear for me. I don’t know whether this belonged to Hermione at one point, or if the clothes are purely Veronica’s…..either way, it feels wrong. But I don’t want to appear rude, so I just take the clothes and thank her. When she leaves, I finally make my way into the bathroom.

I’m stunned. It’s so clean and immaculate, and….oh, that tub is calling my name. With bath salts and everything. I don’t think I’ve have a real chance to take a bath since Sabrina’s birthday, so I’m taking full advantage of this moment. I place the sleepwear on the counter of the sink, then I grab for a towel on the rack. I get the water running and throw a scoop of salts in, the water fizzes immediately. While the water fills the tub, I finally peel off my clothes, letting my skin breathe at last. The warm water is a comfort to my cool skin, it greets me like an old friend. I could fall asleep right now, it’s so soothing. All that worry that has accumulated since coming back to this town melts away in this tub. The aroma of the salts kisses my skin. My eyes flutter shut. All is peaceful and quiet.

A baby cries in the distance. My eyes open instantly at the piercing noise. It’s so faint, yet it’s heightened in my ears. Do the Lodges have neighbors with an infant? I can’t tell which direction the noise is coming from, it’s starting to freak me out a little. A minute later, the crying stops. I’m at peace again. Probably just hearing things. Another minute or two passes….nothing.

The crying starts again, louder this time. I keep my eyes shut to ignore it. This will all pass. Just relax, Alice. It gets louder, and louder. The crying morphs from a baby’s screams into….into a young girl’s scream.

_ **ALI HELP ME** _

My eyes fly open, my heart races. My hands grip the rim of the tub as I look around franctically. “Sabrina?” I call out. No response. “SABRINA?” The silence is eerie. I jump out of the tub and throw on the nightgown in a hurry, the fabric sticking to my wet skin. What is happening to Sabrina? Did Veronica…..or Hiram….. No, they wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, but something else? Somebody else?

“SABRINA!” I rush out of Hiram’s bathroom to enter a room of pitch black nothing. Well, it’s not entirely pitch black. The world outside this window is flashing orange and red, like I just walked into a hotel room in Hell. The room layout is similar to Hiram’s, but it’s dirtier. More ransacked. What happened here? Is….is this still Hiram’s room? Am I still in Pembrooke? The baby crying echoes in the distance. I’m going insane. I turn to a shut door, the crying sounds like it’s coming from there. Sabrina’s voice calls out for me again. More sorrowful. More in pain. I have to get to her. Wherever I am, I need to find a way out. I head for that door.

“You’re not going to find her there, Miss.” someone unfamiliar speaks from behind me. I freeze, swallowing a lump in my throat. A trickle of sweat runs down my hairline, I don’t know if it’s from my growing fear or from this intense heat. I twist my head, unsure of who’s in this strange room with me, and….. Behind me is a teenage boy, the same one I saw in that body bag ripped to shreds. His body’s in tact, yet there’s blood all over him.

I face this stranger fully. “You’re Chuck Clayton.” This boy, his face still creepily neutral, wanders over to me slowly. I want to back away, to run out the door behind me, but I can’t move. My feet are glued to this floor. The boy reaches for my hand, his grip is gentle. He tilts his head back towards where I just entered.

“There’s something I need to show you.” The door opens, but it no longer leads into the bathroom. I don’t know what now lies beyond that threshold, and I don’t know if Chuck is leading me to my death, but I have no other choice but to allow him to lead me through. The baby cries and Sabrina’s screams are replaced by voices chanting in Latin. The boy leads me down a hallway, the doors shaking while bolted shut. The walls above me glow from some fire or flickering lights in the distance. The chanting grows louder the more we move down this hallway. Am I walking into the nightmare scene from _Rosemary’s Baby_? Am I getting lead to a freaky basement where old witches will watch me get defiled by Satan? It’s a gross thought, but I have to play out the worse case scenarios in my head here.

Chuck leads me down a staircase, the burning light grows brighter. We pass by a kitchen, where a bunch of young girls in Vixens uniforms stare at us with blank faces. Their eyes follow us when we walk by them, and I’m creeped out. The chanting increases as Chuck guides me through the living room, out to….a pool. The same pool I saw in that vision earlier this week. Chuck stops at the doorway, gesturing for me to go through. I step out, and what I find…..it freaks me out.

There’s people around the pool wearing all white. Some faces are from the Witches Council, ones I saw the night of Sabrina’s birthday when they chased her back to the Mortuary. Neither Hiram nor Veronica are present, and I can’t find Sabrina in this crowd. But Father Blackwood is there, and so are those Weird Sisters. They all stare out into the pool with blank faces, chanting their Latin in a monotone manner. I can hear that baby cry once more, and it’s louder than ever, even louder over the Latin. My eyes dart to the middle of this crowd, and…..I can’t believe what I see. Standing front in center, in a small semi circle, is Zelda and Hilda, with Ambrose between them. The Spellman Sisters have gold fixated onto their white outfits, each dawning a crown of bones, and Ambrose is dressed in a gold tunic with a gold band around his head. I’ve never been to a real Church of Night meeting, but this….this seems like cult activity. The crying pierces the scene, then I finally see it - someone passes a young baby towards the Spellmans. They all seem so unfazed with this baby in their arms. I move closer to get a better look, but there’s water in between me and them, and I’m trapped. Why is this infant here? And where is Sabrina? The infant screams, and Zelda, Hilda, and Ambrose lift the baby into the air. I want to use my magic to save this child from whatever is about to happen. I’m about to prepare a spell when it finally hits me. This baby’s aura matches an aura I know. One I’m trying to protect.

“Sabrina?”

It happens so fast. The moment I say her name, the chanting stops. The Spellmans release the infant.

“NO!”

I make a run for it, I don’t care if I wind up in this damn pool, I have to catch this infant version of Sabrina. I won’t let her die---

But she doesn’t fall into the pool. She doesn’t even scream. Instead, she starts floating in mid air, giggling. My mouth hangs, I’m at the edge of this pool deck, on the verge of falling in. The crowd of witches vanishes around me, the Spellmans included. The scene vanishes too, I’m no longer at this pool, I’m in the woods. And this baby Sabrina is not floating, someone is cradling her. Someone that I feared would find her.

He looks at me with the infant in his arms, grimacing. His blue eyes glow, practically burning into my skull. “You’re too late, Alice.” Hal laughs. “She’s under my care now. You might as well just join the others.” His smile fades, his eyes go from blue to….something more sinister.

He lunges out at me, I have to step back. Wrong move, because I fall back into some body of water. It’s pitch-black with traces of red. A figure shoots out a me in between the flashes, the way I saw Chuck getting attacked in…. Oh no. So what I saw…. It really was….

Something grabs me. I turn and find Chuck’s corpse floating towards me. It says, “Go back, or he’ll get you too. This isn’t the place to die.”

I come out of the water screaming. My arms coil around my body, I’m shivering and I can’t suppress my fear. It takes a second for me to realize that I’m back in Hiram’s bathroom, in his tub. I never left this bathroom, but what I just experienced….

I climb out of the tub, almost slipping on the tile. My knees hit the floor and I have to reach for the towel above me. “HIRAM!” I scream, grabbing a hold of the towel at last. I bring it to cover my front as I wipe my face with my hand. There’s traces of blood across my fingers, I finally notice the red tints in my eyes. Was I crying blood? “HIRAM!” I try to move towards the door, but I almost slip again. I have to grip onto the counter to keep myself from falling all the way down.

“ALICE?” Hiram bolts into the bathroom. He’s in shock when he sees my state. He hesitates for a second before he grabs another towel off the rack, racing over to wrap it around my shoulders. I shake as he secures this second towel around me. He takes a hold of my face. “What happened, Alice? Talk to me!”

I cough out some water, gasping for breath. Then I spit out, “We were right. Hal killed Chuck Clayton.”

XXXXXXXX

** _End of Chapter Seven_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! What a trip! So will Alice and Hiram be able to keep up with Hal's game? How will Sabrina handle "Salem"? Hmm....
> 
> Anyways, thank you all so much for the support this past year! I should have a new chapter ready within the next week or two. Until then, Happy New Year!


	9. Keeping Up With the Joneses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Happy 2020!
> 
> I'm here to bless you, or curse you, all with a new chapter of UC! Happy reading!

**ALICE**

We burst through the doors of the morgue downtown. If there’s anything to confirm what I saw, what I heard, our answers would be locked up along with whatever remained of Chuck Clayton. Hiram lifts up the lantern so we can have a better time going down this hallway.

“So this pool was the same one from your vision?” he clarifies as he guides me by the hand. I’m still shivering, I didn’t bother to dry my hair before throwing on that nightgown, some slippers, and one of Hiram’s jackets. But my mind is so much more awake now. I can recall every detail.

“Yes! Chuck was trying to tell me something! Hal murdered him there, then he must have been dragged out to the Forest!”

“But why were the Spellmans there? And why was Sabrina an infant?”

“I don’t know!” I cry in frustration. That part confuses me as well, why did I see Sabrina as an infant? She’s so mature for her age, and she wouldn’t be so susepting to Hal’s manipulation….would she? The light from the lantern starts to dim out, it’s harder to see down this hallway. “How close are we?”

Hiram stops in the middle of the hallway to lightly bang the lamp against the wall. He doesn’t have much luck. “Oh, for the love of Beelzebub…” Well, this isn’t getting us anywhere. I let go of Hiram’s hand and move to the other side of the hallway. I close my eyes and start to tap into some of my magic.

“Hickery Pickery, Hickery Pickery, where shall these witches go?” I let my hand run along the wall as I move forward, muttering this navigation spell. “They'll go east, they'll go west, they'll go to the crow's nest. Hickery Pickery, Hickery Pickery---”

“We don’t have time, Acid Queen Alice.” Hiram retakes my hand, snapping me out of my groove. Then, he whistles. “EDGAR!” From the end of the hallway, a figure forces open the window and flies in. Edgar morphs back into his raven-like body, cawing at his owner. Hiram calls out, “_¿Izquierda o derecha?_” The raven hops around for a bit, then his head tilts towards the right. He flies off in that direction, prompting for us to follow. Hiram leads the way, “We need to go right.”

We quicken our pace to catch up to Edgar. The raven patiently waits for us by one steel door. This must be where they hold the bodies. Hiram commends Edgar for his work, then prompts the door to open the door. He steps back to allow his familiar to get us inside, nodding at me. There’s a creak, and the door flies open. Edgar caws and waddles in, and we follow in suit.

The room is cold and dark. The metal walls and little doors hiding these lifeless souls is haunting. I’ve been to the Spellmans’ workplace many a times, but Riverdale’s version of a mortuary does not sit right with me. I can sense that there’s no care given to the bodies in here. No love whatsoever. I only hope that Chuck’s body parts didn’t receive a similar treatment. I pull out my phone to produce some light. “Chuck’s information should be listed outside one of these doors.” I progress down to the other side of the room, starting to examine the little doors. There’s bodies from a couple of weeks ago, and none of the residents are in alphabetical order. Hiram starts on the side closest to the door, having Edgar aid in his search. Name after name, card after card, no sign of Chuck anywhere. I whip my head in frustration, and my sights land on the other side of metal doors, more bodies. My eyes go to the right….

“Here!” I hustle over and stop in front of the top door, labeled **Clayton, Charles**. Hiram rushes over next to me, cradling Edgar in his arm. He smirks in delight as I keep my sights on this door. Something’s stopping me from opening it. A whisper creeps into my head, it’s so menacing. It sounds…..it sounds like him. The whisper snickers at me. The message from my vision comes back in, telling me to go back. But to where? Greendale? Pembrooke? My breathing hardens, my sight blurs. I need to find out what happened to Chuck, what Hal did, but I’m paralyzed.

** _Go back, or he’ll get you too. This isn’t the place to die._ **

“What is it?” Hiram pulls me out of my trance. I blink once or twice, then I turn to him. Edgar squawks and attempts to wriggle himself free. Hiram brings his familiar close to his face to whisper, “_Abre la puerta._” He releases the raven from his hold. Edgar flaps his wings as he starts to work on the lock. Meanwhile, Hiram gently touches my upper arm, “Are you nervous?”

Are you nervous? What are we in, high school? Yes, I’m nervous! I’m practically shaking in my place! But we’ve already come so far, and Hiram’s been so willing to join me on this random quest. I can’t back out now, I can’t play chicken here. I exhale before turning to him. “I’ll be alright.”

By this point, Edgar has the door unlocked. The steel door screeches at its opening, Edgar floats away and flies over to Hiram’s shoulder. I finally get the nerve to examine what lies within those steel walls. I can hear my heartbeat pound in my eardrums. My arms tense up at my sides. It may just be me, but it feels colder in this room. My bones ache. The tattoo on my thigh starts to itch. _Deep breaths, Alice_.

“Here goes nothing.” I mutter, raising my hand. Using telekinesis, the metal tray slides out. The pieces of Chuck Clayton sit on top, covered with plastic. Is it bad that I was expecting a little tag to be tied around a toe? I’m hesitant to reach out and remove the plastic, I don’t know what horrors await us underneath. I make slow steps to one side of the tray while Hiram goes the other way. The closer I come to these body parts, the more my tattoo grows agitated. It’s bearable, for now, but it’s still uncomfortable. I watch as his hand levitates over the plastic wrapping. He looks over at me, I guess waiting for me to give him the cue to go ahead. My fingers hover over this plastic, a jolt goes through me. I force myself to inhale, then force it out. Do it for Chuck Clayton. Do it for Veronica. And most importantly, do it for Sabrina.

We grab for the plastic at the same time and pull it back. A good two-thirds of one leg has been ripped from the limb. Two fingers from the left hand are missing. There’s slashes all over the face and throat, but the blood is long gone.

My heart falls to my stomach. I stop any form of breathing looking at this lifeless object. Hiram raises the lantern so we can have more light. “Definitely not an ordinary animal attack. Whatever form Hal took to kill Chuck, he made it appear beastly.” He looks over at me with concern. “Alice, do you remember how Hal went after our classmates? Do you remember what form he took?”

To be honest, I’ve blocked out a lot of what happened during those attacks. What I orchestrated against my peers, what I watched Hal commit, it still haunts me. I don’t want the visuals of Darryl Doiley mauled in the woods, Hermione crashing her car against her will, and Penelope burning inside Thornhill to linger in my head. So I try to avoid thinking about their deaths if at all possible. Guess now I have to recall those deaths for the sake of a dead football player.

I begin to think out loud, “There wasn’t anything special for you. He just stayed in his human form and threw on a ski mask. With Hermione, he just possessed her and caused the car to crash. Penelope Blossom…..I never saw her death, I just heard it, so who knows what he shifted into.” It’s like pulling teeth to make myself present these details. Did Hal really shapeshift to go after my classmates…..or was it really me and I just hallucinated him? **_NO, ALICE. STOP_. _YOU ARE NOT THE MONSTER. _**The hot, itching of my tattoo intensifies the longer I look at these body parts, the longer it takes me to recall those deaths. Well, the more I think about it, he really didn’t start killing until…..

“Darryl Doiley.” I mutter. I move closer to the metal tray to get a better look. Those marks on Chuck, the slashes, the removal of limbs. It’s almost identical to how Hal killed Darryl. “We made it look like a bear had gone after him. I don’t remember why we chose him as our victim….probably just something minor at a party, or at school….”

“What else?” Hiram inquires. My lips jam shut, my arms gravitate to my sides. My tattoo could catch on fire as I stand here, but I can’t move. I can’t react to anything, like I’ve disassociated. No, I’m not disassociating, I’m trying to think…..what happened to Darryl…..

_It was at some point in the middle of November. Hal and I were already on a grind after making Hiram run for his life and petrifying another jock from school. The spooks were small and simple, but I felt on top of the world. For the most part, everyone steered clear the moment Hal appeared at my side. And our relationship was still in its honeymoon stage. He made me giddy and joyous, and he gave me pleasure I had no idea I needed. No one could lay a finger on me….. That was, until Darryl made some comment about my parentage….about me being a bastard girl from the Southside. And it made the school news._

_I knew my mother had abandoned me. I knew my parents had me out of wedlock. It was a comment that really shouldn’t have gotten to me, but it did. And Hal’s reaction fueled the fire. That’s sparked this new plan. We would make Darryl apologize and remove this slander from the Blue and Gold. We waited for the perfect night to do it, and it just so happened that there would be a major event at Pop’s, a charity fundraiser hosted by the Class of ‘93. Darryl would be there to craft a new article for the Blue and Gold. It was all too perfect._

_So the night of the fundraiser, we attended. Hermione and Penelope were out in the parking lot, leading the Vixens in a routine set to some Wham! song. Fred and FP acted as waiters and runners for Pop Tate. Hiram was there too, but only silently observing from a booth in the back, afraid to make eye contact with me as Hal and I entered. FP hollered a hello at me, and Fred took our order when we slid into the booth. Some anxiousness creeped into my head, so I distracted myself by watching the Vixens’ routine out through the window. Yet, Hal had his sights somewhere else. At the other end cap of the diner was our subject, taking pictures and readjusting his glasses every time he stopped someone for an interview._

_I heard Hal growl, and I turned to him. “Hey, not yet.” I whispered, placing my hand on his knee. He lost the intense glare and softened his gaze at me. I sighed, “We can’t make a scene. Besides, we have to get him when he wouldn’t expect it.”_

_He snickered, “You say that about all of them, baby.”_

_I wasn’t in the mood to fight with him, I needed to stay on my game. I needed him to focus and not lose his temper. So, I cupped his face and stroked his cheek. “How about this? If I convince him to follow us, you get to pick where we go.”_

_That seemed to lighten his mood. He gave me a Cheshire Cat grin, his eyes lit up in that color I saw on Halloween night. “Sounds like a plan to me.” He reached for my face and captured my lips. I giggled in the kiss, a lot of my anxiety fading away._

_“Uhh….hi, Alice.” a voice broke our moment. We both turned to find Darryl standing a few inches away from our booth. Hal lost his glowing expression, his eyes were like the dead._

_To control the situation, I squeezed Hal’s knee and addressed Darryl. “Article for the paper?” Darryl mumbled a confirmation, gesturing down to the camera around his neck. I almost cracked up laughing, remembering how Hal called him a “dweeb” with that thing. But I had to keep myself together. I let go of Hal’s knee and placed my elbows on the table. “Get a lot of good quotes so far? Any photos?”_

_“Just a few, but….they’re all a little blurry.” Darryl confessed. I shot Hal a look of **See? Got to take it slow.** I turned back to Darryl…..he acted like he didn’t do anything to me. Like he didn’t further ruin my reputation at school….not like it really mattered at that point, but Hal reacting over it didn’t help. I whispered for Hal to get up real quick so I could stand in front of Darryl._

_“How about this? Why don’t we get out of this lame fundraiser and give you some real news to put into that paper?” I raised my brow at the last part. Darryl grew shocked._

_“Really? Look, if this is over the….the thing about you during school---”_

_“It’s fine.” I cut him off. “But with what I….” I paused, looking back over at Hal before continuing, “with what we can provide, it will make that piece about me look like yesterday’s diapers. How does that sound?”_

_“But where would we go?” Darryl asked. I went quiet….I didn’t get time to confirm with Hal where we would go forth with this plan. We had an idea of WHAT to do, just not the WHERE. From behind, Hal wrapped his arm around my waist, his hand resting over where my tattoo hid under my jeans. He winked at me, then he turned to Darryl._

_“How about Pickens Park? By Fox Forest?”_

_So that’s where we went. Darryl followed us as we drove out to the Park. During the drive, Hal and I finished drafting the final details - we would take him further into the forest, I would conjure a little scare to make him fess up and apologize, and Hal would chase him around for a while if he didn’t agree to our terms. We waited out in the car for a few minutes before Darryl appeared, the outside temperature was starting to drop significantly. But I felt warm in the car, laughing as Hal nipped at my neck. “Paper boy doesn’t know what’s coming for him.” his voice was deep in my ear. Looking back at it, the warning signs were right there, I should have never gone through with it. But back then, I only laughed it off and kissed him._

_“Let’s go help him write his swan song.” I muttered against his lips with a smile. I reached for a bottle of whiskey and some paper cups from the back seat. We wanted to make sure no one would ever believe Darryl….he would become a drunk fool that hallucinated in the forest. It would dethrone him as Head Writer. With the alcohol and cups in my hands, I hopped out of the car. I could see my breath in the cold air. My Serpent jacket wasn’t doing much to keep me warm. From a distance, two yellow lights grew and came closer. Darryl parked his car a distance away, but it was still close enough for him to hurry over. Hal locked up the car and shoved the keys into his pocket. He nodded at me, and I smiled. I moved closer to Darryl, “This way.”_

_Darryl followed as I led him through the little playground at Pickens Park, passed the gazebo and the statue of General Pickens, into Fox Forest. Hal stayed a bit back to move Darryl’s car closer to where we strategized our operation. When Darryl and I reached a good distance in our journey, I whipped out the whiskey. “Want some?” He was hesitant at first, saying something about driving home. I told him, “Don’t worry - I won’t get you that boozed up. We’ll be out of here long before you’re too inebriated.” That convinced him enough, so I tossed him one of the cups and poured some whiskey into it. It looked like a little in his cup, but I used some magic to increase the level of alcoholic content. It needed to be enough to freak him out more, to make him more bending to our will. He gulped down a good majority of whiskey, my eyes widened. I needed him drunk, but not that quickly. Darryl grabbed for more whiskey and poured more into his cup as he stumbled over to a log._

_“So you got any words about the fundraiser?” he slurred his words. “Any gossip you have?” I shoved my hands into my pockets, deliberately not answering. I knew what I needed to say, but I wanted to watch him pry it out of me. He noticed my silence, then scoffed. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about the fundraiser! We can talk about anything! What would make a good article for the Blue and Gold?” He began to pace back and forth. The air got cooler near me, the wind whistled through my ears. The vibe I felt the night I got my vengeance on Hiram reappeared. Hal was nearby, waiting for me to go for it._

_I spoke up, “How about you apologize.” Darryl stopped in his tracks and gave me a funny look. He laughed out loud, telling me he didn’t know what I was talking about. I rolled my eyes and stood my ground. “I don’t know….for what you smeared into the papers about my parentage. That I’m a bastard.” Darryl stopped laughing. He finally understood that I was being serious. _

_“So what?” he tried to shrug it off. “Everyone knows that you ain’t got a mom!” The last part weakened my spirits. I pushed the air out through my teeth, I needed to stay strong._

_“I’m not asking much out of you, Darryl. Just…..promise me that you’ll never write about me again. Just say you’re sorry. Okay?”_

_“For what?” Darryl fought back. “Writing the truth? Calling the Serpents out for the pieces of trash they are?” My face went neutral. A part of me wanted to cry, but I couldn’t feel anything. I felt numb. Hal lingered somewhere in the woods behind me, but I needed to make my move first. Darryl tossed his paper cup to the side, growing frustrated. “Screw this, I’m leaving.”_

_He began to walk away when I raised my hand. An invisible wall formed, stopping Darryl in his path. He stumbled back, confused at first, then he turned the other way. I lifted my other hand and blocked his path once more. He acted like a mime trapped in an invisible box, except this invisible box was real, and it was getting smaller and smaller the closer I brought my hands together. The shrinking of this “box” made him fall to his knees. He began to panic and scream for help. He started to choke on his own breath, gasping for air. I moved closer to him, my fingers curling in. Darryl looked up at me with fear in his eyes. He wanted to say something, he opened and closed his mouth. So, I released the “box” and let him collapse, regaining air. Big mistake, because the moment Darryl gained back strength, he looked up at me, screaming on word: “FREAK!”_

_I was well aware of my various names - Ali Cat from the Wrong Side of the Track, Serpent Slut, Acid Queen Alice, even Serpentina. But freak….. FREAK. It rubbed me the wrong way. It made my blood boil. It made whatever emotions I wanted to conceal burst out into the open. And that’s what happened - I lost control and sent Darryl flying back with one flick._

_He knocked his head onto a tree trunk, and the power of my telekinetic throwing caused the trunk to crack down the middle. Darryl, half in a daze, struggled to stand up. By that point, Hal entered the scene….. No, he flew towards Darryl in the goblin form I first saw him in before taking his human form. He clawed at Darryl, ripping at his clothes. Darryl attempted to crawl away but to no avail. After a while, he gave up, crying as Hal shifted back into his human form and pinned Darryl down in a headlock. I came over to them and looked down with tears forming in my eyes._

_Hal was growing impatient. “What are you waiting for, Alice? FINISH IT OFF!” Part of me wanted to. I lifted my hand, prepared to end Darryl’s life with just one nonverbal spell. But something stopped me. Another part of me developed second thoughts._

_I didn’t feel this way going into avenging myself with Hiram. Nor with that other jock. Why was this confrontation making me doubt myself? Because I knew it was true? Because I knew no matter what, people would still find ways to hurt me? My emotions were slipping off of my shoulders. I didn’t want anything to do with this anymore._

_I lowered my hand, backing away. I choked out tears, I had to cover my mouth. Hal saw me in my vulnerable state, he softened his lethal hold on Darryl. He tossed the boy to the side, rose up, and approached me. “Hey….what is it, baby?”_

_“I can’t…...I can’t do this….” I sobbed. I could have cared less about whether Darryl would go and blab about what happened. I didn’t care if he ran back to Pop’s and labeled me a monster in front of everyone else I knew. I just wanted to go home. Hal must have read my thoughts, because he grabbed my face, wiping away my tears._

_“We won’t let him go anywhere. We won’t let him call you a monster. Because…..you are not a monster, Alice.” He gave me a soft smile, then he kissed me. “You’re not the monster. **He’s** the monster.” He let me go and turned back to Darryl, who rested himself against the trunk. Hal shut his eyes and rolled his shoulders. Then, his eyes opened. They were all…..black. And his hands morphed into claws. He hadn’t done this before._

_“Hal….what….what are you….”_

_“It’s alright, Alice. I’ll finish what we started.”_

_Before I could process what he said, Hal lunged for Darryl. Blood sprayed onto my face. My mouth hung. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to believe what I was witnessing, or what I was hearing, but it was really happening. Hal was really killing one of my classmates._

The slashing noise echoes in my ear, causing my tattoo to become excruciating. The flesh of that area of my skin feels like it’s boiling. My bones stiffen, and my muscles ache. I yelp.

Hiram’s eyes widen in full panic. “Alice?” I lean back against the metal doors, raising the fabric of my nightgown in some attempt to cool down my irritated skin. I continue to yelp in pain, my eyes watering out of distress. Hiram rushes over to my side and sets down the lantern next to the body parts. He wants to reach out and touch me, but he doesn’t want to frighten me, or make the pain worse. So, he just asks, “What is it? Are you okay?”

“My…..my…..” I grit through my teeth. My fingers grip onto the part of my nightgown, the cool air helps but it doesn’t provide much relief. “My tattoo…..it burns.” Hiram grabs for the lantern once more and lowers it down. He examines my tattoo for a moment…. I don’t think he’s ever seen it, that’s probably why he looks so intrigued. I don’t understand what’s taking him so long to give me a diagnosis, so I glance down…. Nothing’s wrong with my tattoo on the outside. The burn mark remains untouched. So, why is it---

“Oh Lucifer.” Hiram mutters. I’m about to ask what it means, then I see it. The ink within my tattoo is violently changing colors, the same way it did when I told Gladys about my past. It goes back and forth between licorice black, to vibrant purple, to blood red. The veins that sprouted from the sides of the ink have grown like tree branches. And the handprint….. The mark Hal left when he tried to remove it…..what’s left of the ink is glowing. It’s bleeding into the rest of the tattoo. And it’s getting worse the longer I’m near Chuck Clayton’s dismembered corpse.

I make some effort to push myself away, but I wind up stumbling into Hiram. I let go of the lifted fabric as he guides me away from this tray. He mutters a spell and flicks his hand, then the tray with Chuck retreats back into its dark, isolated world. The door shuts behind it with a thud. The burning sensation starts to decrease. It’s a little bit easier to walk and move now, but I still find myself wincing at the stubborn pain. Hiram redirects his attention to me and gently cups my face. “What can I do to help? _Is_ there anything I can do?” Even with the deep breathing, I still wince. I can’t shake this pain off the longer I’m in this room. I have to leave.

“Just….just get me out of here. Please.” I hate that I sound so broken. I hate sounding so weak and helpless. Like I need some knight in shining armor to rescue me and to slay the dragon in the tower because I can’t do it for myself. But what other choice do I have in this moment? So I let Hiram take my arm and throw it over his shoulder, I let him grab onto my side so he can move me out of this hellmouth. He gets Edgar to grab the lantern and get ahead of us so we can leave the morgue. I can only take a small amount of steps before the pain cripples me. I lean into him, holding back tears. Hiram stops and rotates so he’s face to face with me. I don’t want to freak out over me, I’ll be fine. He’s already done enough for me as it is. Despite that, he asks, “Do you trust me? I might have an idea, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

I run my hand over my wet cheek and chew on my lip. At this point, I’m already in this arrangement with him. I know he’s a witch and works for the Church. I know he has some connection to the Spellmans. I know about Veronica. What else could he surprise me with? I huff, “Might as well go for it.”

With that, Hiram steps around to my side, not where the tattoo is, and rests a hand on my back. He gestures down to my leg with his other hand. What is he trying to…… Oh. I get it now. He lowers his hand down to my kneecap, I bend my knee and shift it so his palm kisses the underside of my knee. He bends down a bit, then his arm slides under both knees, I’m off the ground, relieving tension from my tattoo. I wrap my arms around his neck, blinking back newly formed tears. Hiram keeps his hold on me secured as he carries me out of this room, out of the morgue, back to Pembrooke.

XXXXXXXX

It takes a ton of nonverbal magic, multiple breaths of fresh air, and a cup of herbal remedy tea to relieve the pain. The girls have already fallen asleep, so we retreat to Hiram’s study for the remainder of our nightlong quest. It’s almost 1 am by the time I’m halfway through my tea, sitting in front of the fire. Meanwhile, Hiram paces back and forth as he flips through the pages of some book about familiars. I can only guess he wants to determine what caused my tattoo to flare up, why any connection with what Hal did has caused me severe pain.

“Did your Serpent tattoo flare up in the past? Whenever he did those killings?” he threw the question out. I set down my tea and turn to him.

“I don’t think so. The only times it hurt were when he tried to remove it, and…..long after I left town.”

“So, these episodes have only been recent?”

“Basically.” I shrug at him. He turns a couple of pages, scanning back and forth. His behavior is starting to confuse me. “What?”

He shuts the book, almost looking remorse. “I can’t find anything in this book about your bond. What you’ve described to me about your bond to Hal…..there’s no explanation in here.” I rise up from my seat, grasping onto the top for support. My head starts reeling….I know what Hal and I experienced was quite dark, but there has to be something that would tell us why…..why these things are happening to me.

“You have other books about familiars, right?”

“It wouldn’t matter, Alice.” Hiram walks back over to his witchcraft bookshelf. He slides the book on familiars back into its space, then he turns to me. “Your bond to Hal is so….beyond unusual. He isn’t your familiar at the current moment, yet you still feel the after effects when he attacks someone.”

“And the nosebleeds?” I add.

He carefully moves back over to me, clasping his hands together. “Didn’t you say you never unbound yourself from him? When you drove me back from the police station?”

He’s right. It may have been a theory in my head at the time, but the more I run through the scenarios in my head, it makes sense. I was in so much of a rush to put Hal back into the Conway House, and to get out of Riverdale…. I never went through the proper procedure to unbound myself. Yet again, was there ever a spell powerful enough to end my bond with him?

I wrap my arms around my stomach area, I could curl up and disappear. “You’re right, I didn’t. I never thought to. I just….stuck him there and ran. And wiped out everyone’s memories of me….” I get flashes in my head of that long night. I hate what I had to do, I hate that I had no other choice but to leave Riverdale. But what else could I have done? Hal would have murdered everyone I knew, he could have destroyed everything. And he would have gotten away with it, thanks to me, his little puppet.

I let go of the chair. My eyes go from Hiram to where he placed that book. “Is there an unbinding spell in the book? Or any of them?”

He glances over his shoulder back to the bookshelf too. He gestures for me to follow him, and I do. We go back through the book together - there’s how to summon a familiar, how to care for it, what happens when you pass away. But there’s no information on how to separate yourself from a familiar.

“I’m sorry, Alice, but I’m not seeing anything.” Before he gives up all hope, he grabs for another book on familiars, leaving me somewhat on edge. He closes the book in frustration, “Nothing in this one, too.”

So we’re back to square one. We don’t know why Hal went after Chuck, and I can’t find a way to break whatever bond I made with him. I back up towards the loveseats, caught up in my bubbling emotions. I could scream, I could cry. But I wind up laughing. “So I’m stuck to him. I’m gonna feel it when he hurts another person, and it’ll go on and on until I’m dead.” My pseudo giddy expression doesn’t do much to cover up my tears. I refuse to let out another sob, so I bite my bottom lip and turn away from Hiram. Just when I thought he already had seen my cry enough…. Why am I acting like such a baby about this? The moment someone mentions Hal, or anything regarding my past, I just fall apart. I was fine living in Greendale, I could keep my intense emotions underwraps. But being back here in Riverdale….the emotions I fought so hard to keep back rise to the surface. I should have gone through the proper ways of ending my relationship with Hal. I should have just banished him in the forest, where it seemed like we were killing anyone-----

I go silent. Fox Forest. Darryl was killed there. Hermione crashed her car around there. Chuck’s body was exhumed there. And Thornhill….. And the Conway House.

“Alice, I know the news of your bond is unsettling,” Hiram comes over to me, still going on about the previous subject. He stands next to me, “but if I can get in touch with…..” That’s when he sees my face. “Alice? What is it?”

I turn to him, “Do you have a map of town?” He doesn’t get my question at first, so I have to clarify, “I think I found a pattern in those deaths.” Now he understands. Hiram raises a finger, indicating for me to wait, as he goes back to his desk. He rifles through the drawers, then after a few seconds, he pulls out a map of Riverdale. Granted, it’s more of a business-style map, I guess for whatever projects he’s planning for Lodge Industries, but for now it will do.

I move over to the desk and reach for a pen. I start to circle locations on the map, “Conway House, where I first pulled him out. Then my trailer, where I scared you. Then the other guy. Darryl in the forest. Another forest-kill too.”

“Then Hermione in her car. And the fire at Thornhill.” I circle those areas as well.

I go to make my last circle. “And now….Chuck Clayton.” I lift my pen up and stare down at the map. It’s all here, the marks on the map visualizes what I came to understand. Now I need him to see it too. “Do you see where all these are happening? Or where they happened to be in close proximity towards?” He has to take some time to look over where I made the circles. He glances back and forth at each one, then his sight goes upward.

“He made his attacks in or near Fox Forest.” he finally connects the dots. He looks up at me, “And the Conway House sits on the border. Alice….do you think that….”

“It’s an energy source. Hal got stronger the more he was out there.”

“And that’s where they found Chuck Clayton.” Hiram lifts the corners of his mouth, I don’t know whether from amusement or from relief, but it brightens my mood. He wanders back over to where we made our timeline earlier in the day. “Now it all makes sense! It’s not a pattern of _how_, it’s a pattern of _where_. Only thing we have to consider now is how long it will take before he makes his next move.”

“Everything with me occurred in a 5 to 6 week time span.” I tell him. Now, my mind is bouncing from present to past, to further past, back to the Reaper. “What about the Reaper kills? If it’s possible Hal was there, or nearby, how long did the Reaper hysteria last?”

“Guessing probably the same amount. And in the same time of year.” We both sit down, looking over our dry-erase timeline. Hiram makes a small arrow to the left of where we began in 1992. He labels it as _Riverdale Reaper era_. He explains to me, “These events all happen in fall, going from late October to mid December. Think about it - the Reaper went after his victims in that small frame of time.”

“The same as when Hal and I went after our classmates.” I glance down over to where we have our current kill listed. Something’s not right about this one. “So why is Hal starting later now? Why kill so late into the month?”

“When did he get released?” Hiram points out, and it makes sense. I shrug, half in a sleepy daze. It’s getting so late, it’s practically almost morning. But thanks to my nightly tangent and spur-of-the-moment decision to drag Hiram to the morgue, I could go on longer without sleep. Well, at least I think I can, but my droopy eyes and slow-running brain is telling me otherwise. I glance back at the Reaper arrow. If Hal really did work with the Reaper….

“You said your Mom grew up in town, right? She was here around the time of the Reaper?”

“Yes, why?”

I look over at him. “Is there a way we can see if other witches resided in town during the Reaper massacres? It could be possible that someone else must have run into Hal….or knew if he had any activity back then.”

Hiram contemplates over the idea for a brief minute. “Well….the thing about my mother, and other witches back then…..you realize that there were witch hunts at the time?”

The news shocks me. I knew that not many witches live here, even back when Hiram and I were going to school, but I never considered that witch hunts were the reason for the lack of more like us. I shake my head at him in embarrassment. Hiram gives me a quick overview, “Because the murders were that severe, that horrifying, people of Riverdale actually believed witches were behind these deaths. A group was formed to go after anyone they thought had the craft. You remember why Penelope Blossom could not shut up about the subject?” That’s odd, why would Penelope want to discuss the Reaper massacres so much-----

The Halloween Party. The reason I went to the Conway House in the first place. **_You know my mother led the raid against that Riverdale Reaper. She was the one who suggested they bury the man out by Pickens Park….._**

“The Blossoms led those witch hunts.” the pieces come together in my head. “Is that why she hated my guts? I mean, that would explain why…...why Hal went for her last. She was the last of the Blossom bloodline. But still, did she…..do you think she knew I was a witch? And you?”

“I don’t believe she caught onto our craft, although it wouldn’t surprise me if she did. And it would justify Hal’s reasoning for killing her.” Hiram taps his fingers on the white board. “But yes, her mother, Rose Blossom, orchestrated those hunts. She rallied some of the biggest names in town, and they buried some man alive in the Park. The hunts scared a lot of the witches, some even were thrown in jail or driven out of town all together. What happened in Riverdale made the Salem hunts look like child’s play.” He goes quiet for a moment, maybe this talk about the Reaper and his mother is making him uncomfortable. Just when I thought he wouldn’t go on, he speaks, “My mother was fortunate enough to get out before the hunts retrogressed. She got to keep her life, but the witches she knew were not so lucky. I don’t believe she ever saw them again, even long after she became a Lodge.” This information breaks my heart. His mother lost the only real friends she had because of some stupid hysteria, and the hysteria grew into false accusation. Like what Hiram said, maybe that’s why Hal destroyed the last of the Blossom bloodline - to go after the family that drove away any trace of witchcraft. But if he was there….wouldn’t he have done something to help them? To keep them from leaving? Unless he was in on the persecutions too…

“Hiram, is it possible that we can get a list of what witches were in Riverdale, alongside your mother?” He sits up straight, staring at the wall with a blank expression. Then, after a while, he turns to me.

“There would have been a coven. Their names would all be registered in….”

“The Book of the Beast.” I mutter. Hiram stands up, pulling me up as well.

“I have to go into Greendale anyway for a conference with the Witches Council on Monday. If I’m able to….and that’s a stretch….I can see if one of the members I’m in alliance with can allow me to examine its contents. To see if any witches from Riverdale are in that book. And hopefully, we can get some form of an answer. How does that sound?”

Whatever negative emotions I experienced earlier begin to fade away. We might actually have a chance at narrowing down Hal’s pattern. If we analyze the Reaper killings, in conjunction with my period with him, we can track down Hal in the present and get rid of him, for good. I smile. “I’m all in, Manhattan.” Using the nickname sounds a little unorthodox now, since he’s helped me out so much, but the expression doesn’t bother him. I swear, I can see Hiram blushing a little in his grin. “Is there anything I can do in the meantime while you get your hands on that Book?”

“Umm….just….” he glances back over at the bookshelf. “Go through any of the books here, as many as you like, and….keep me informed if there’s another death. Or if you have another….episode of sickness.” I nod my head, partially in sleepiness. Hiram reaches for my hand, stroking my knuckles. “I’m glad that we have a good start on this. I’m glad that you can finally find your peace.”

Okay, it’s probably just my lack of rest, or my emotions flying all over the damn place, but I’m tearing up again. Hearing him say these things, that I want to find my closure and be at peace with myself, hits me where I didn’t expect it. I curl my fingers into his own, and grin from ear to ear. I whisper, “Me too.”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

I’m not getting much luck in these books Jughead and I found. It’s all strictly regarding demonology and how to hunt down your supernatural foe. But I haven’t found a single piece of information when it comes to working with a familiar. Or how this all could connect to the Riverdale Reaper. It bums me out - I just want to know how to work with Salem better.

Something else I’ve noticed about what we found in the box is that I’m getting a weird aura from it all. The whispering dust may have been merely a flux, but the content in these books is not sitting right with me. Granted, I’m not afraid of the idea of hunting a demon, but the book I have, for example, produces an unusual vibe. Like it never wanted me to open it in the first place. It gives me the jitters every time I flip a page or run my fingers down the scrambled margins. And the ripped-out pages from the front still baffle me. Who would want to damage a book this way, and why?

I keep my attention on the book I have on the ride back to the trailer park, using Ambrose’s letter as a bookmark. My overnight bag and the new items V helped me find on our Black Friday excursion sit in the back seat. Ali keeps glancing from the road to the book in my hands. I haven’t mentioned my findings to her, nor have I mentioned anything related to the Reaper, but at some point I will ask her about it.

I’m so caught up in my page, it takes Ali’s voice to bring me out of my focus. “Already reading a new book for school?” In a hurry, I slam the book shut and place my hand over the cover.

“Just some free reading.” I bring my knees up to my chest, letting the book fall between my thighs and my stomach. I’m careful of how to give Ali details of my research, “I’m helping Jughead with an article for the school paper….about town history.”

“That’s nice of you.” she gives me a gracious smile. “I’m glad you and Jughead are getting along well. The Joneses are good people.” I can hear the calmness in her voice. She looks so much more at peace now. She sounds more quiet….her voice is almost raspy. Like’s she done a lot of crying earlier, or screaming. My mind goes back to last night. From V’s room, I could hear…

“Did something happen to you and Mister Lodge last night?” I spew out quickly. Ali’s smile fades a little bit. I don’t know if I’ve upset her by bringing the matter up. Regardless, I continue, “V and I heard you scream last night. You were calling for him. We just….I wanted to make sure you were okay. It scared me.”

Ali squeezes my shoulder. “I’m alright now, sweetie. It wasn’t anything over you or Veronica…..a small fright, that’s all.” She sounds dead. And she…..she looks it too. I saw how tired she was at breakfast this morning, and even now, she’s having trouble concentrating on the road. At one point over the night, I had trouble going back to sleep, and I overheard Ali and Mister Lodge from the study. I couldn’t hear the conversation too well, but….it seems like they were up talking for a long time. Did she and Mister Lodge get any sleep?

“Was that why you were up so late?”

“Partially….” she confesses to me. I glance down at the book wedged between me, a side Ambrose’s letter sticking out like a sore thumb. If I got a letter from home, did Ali get one too?

“Was it something Aunties wrote to you? Anything about my trial?”

“No….your Aunt Zelda didn’t say much, and it wasn’t anything cruel.” she tells me in a weary tone. I’m still worried that something’s off about her. She’s been so quiet this morning, so out of it. Ali lifts the corners of her mouth, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We should hear something soon.”

After that, we decide to end that topic of conversation and move onto something else. She asks me about what stores V and I visited on our trip, and if they’re worth hitting up. She makes some joke about changing up her wardrobe from her “hippie garb” which makes us both laugh. I’m glad Ali is at least able to maintain light-hearted conversation in her exhausted state. I hope she can at least get some sleep when we return to the trailer, assuming Salem isn’t acting out of control during our absence.

We arrive back at the trailer park right as the clouds start to block the sun. It’s not as cold out as it was earlier in the week, but I can feel the temperature starting to drop. I wonder when it will snow here. Ali helps me gather my bags from the backseat, and we make our way up the steps, into the trailer. Part of me feared that while we were gone, Salem would make a mess of the place. I know V and I stopped by yesterday to check on him, but with his erratic behavior, who knows anymore. So, going into the trailer, I expect to be horrified at a messy scene. Instead, nothing is out of the ordinary. It’s just how Ali and I left it when we left, how V and I found it when we checked in. I sigh in relief.

From the kitchen counter, Salem greets us with a chirp. “About time you came home.” he exclaims as he hops off the counter to prance over to me. I rest my bags on the floor and bend down to scratch his head. “I missed your company.”

“I missed you too, Salem.” I giggle. Ali places my bags over by the sofa and yawns. I stop my motion with Salem and stand up, retaking a hold of my bags. “Everything okay, Ali?”

“Yeah.” She rubs her eyes. She speaks in between fits of yawning, “Sorry….do you mind if I….if I go lie down for a few minutes?”

“Of course!” Ali smiles at me briefly before moving past to head into the bedroom. I watch as she shuts the door, leaving me out in the main body alone with Salem. I wait a couple of seconds before bringing my bags over to the couch. I open up my backpack just so I can unload my school stuff (V and I both tried to catch up a bit on homework just because school starts up again on Monday) and wind up pulling out the demonology book. It hits me - the rest of those books I selected are in the bedroom! Ali could see them! I rise up and contemplate on running in to grab the books. But I decide not to….I don’t want to bother Ali and to disturb her in the middle of sleeping. Oh well….

I flop down onto the couch. Salem joins me and curls up against my hip. He tilts his head at the sight of the demonology book. “Where did you get that little thing?”

I reach for it, “It’s one of the books Jughead and I found. You were there with us, remember?”

“Huh….guess I wasn’t paying attention. Why do you need a book about demons?”

“We think it might have to do with the Reaper. Jughead’s theorizing that one of his grandparents was a demon hunter in that time period. Hence why he found the books in his storage unit. But….” I run my fingers over the cover, that funny feeling still sitting in my stomach. “Something’s awfully funny about these books, Salem. And I can’t tell why.”

“I told you hanging out with that Serpent boy would lead you to nothing but trouble.” he purrs, rotating his head into my lap. I roll my eyes at him.

“That’s not the issue, Salem. Jughead wouldn’t provide me with bad resources intentionally. And I’m not even sure if he has any knowledge of this….dark energy I’m getting.” It’s true - Jughead may not have picked up on the bad vibes when he first opened them up. Yet again, my witchcraft would allow me more insight on these kinds of things, so how would he be aware of this? I’m tempted to go over to the Jones’s trailer, to see if he’s found anything….

My thoughts are interrupted when someone knocks on the door. Salem sits up with a grumpy mew. Afraid that Ali might wake up, I hurry over to the door and open it. I’m shocked to find Jughead on the other side, scratching at his arm with his glove. “Hey. I thought I saw your car outside. Is now a good time to talk?” He looks so jittery, I’m not sure if from the cold or…

I glance back over at the bedroom door, then I motion for Jughead to come in. “Make sure to keep your voice down. Ali’s sleeping.” I whisper to him as I quietly shut the door. Jughead hasn’t removed his coat or his gloves, but he continues to scratch away. What’s going on with him? “Jughead….we need to talk about those books---”

“Funny you mentioned that.” he smirks. “Kind of the reason I came over. Haven’t found anything that could help, and none of those notes in the margins add up to anything. But….” his scratching increases, it’s making me a little nervous. I want to ask if he’s okay, but he beats me to the punch - “I kinda developed something since looking into those books.”

He peels off one glove, then the other. My jaw drops at the sight of his hands. Blisters as big as my toenails are slowly forming. There’s red marks from scratching over the rashes. I just saw his hands two days ago. How did this violent reaction happen so quickly? He rushes his words as he moves to the couch, “I didn’t start seeing these blisters until yesterday. The rashes happened over night. But….maybe there might have been ticks or some mold in that box I found, because….I think I formed an allergic reaction.” I didn’t see any moldy cardboard or paper when I looked through the box. And I saw no signs of ticks either. This isn’t an allergic reaction. From how Jughead’s acting….it reminds me of when I…..when the Weird Sisters placed that…. Oh no.

It’s a hex! Someone placed a hex on those items in the box! No wonder I got bad vibes, it was practically an omen! I rush over to the kitchen sink to grab for some towels, and I damp them down with water. Salem meows in confusion as I go past him to wrap the damp towels over Jughead’s hands. Normally, I would resort to magic to cure this hex, but I don’t know if Ali and I have the resources to treat this, and….knowing how Harvey reacted to my revealing of being a witch, I don’t want to scare Jughead in a similar fashion.

So for now, I press the towels into his hands, speaking the curse removal spell in my head. _If truly my friend is cursed today, let water wash the hex away. If truly my friend is cursed today, let water wash the hex away._ Jughead winces at the uncomfortable sensation, and I’m doing my best to keep my craft underwraps. Eventually, I give up and let go of the towels.

“Has that helped?”

“Not really, but….it’s cooled my skin off somewhat.” He goes on to readjust the towels around his hands. “I’m nervous to get help from my parents….just because I don’t want my dad to freak out over the fact that I found that box.” Jughead mentioned about his father’s feelings towards Forsythe Senior, and he brought up his father’s battle with alcoholism. Mister Jones is so loving of his family, so caring, but….

“You’re afraid he’ll be mad at you?”

“He won’t beat my ass up over it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” he laughs, “But he certainly won’t be pleased with me. And who knows what’ll happen if JB rats me out.” My eyes widen at the statement.

“You told her?”

“Hell no! But if she found the box, or any of the books, she’ll start asking questions….” At this point, Jughead removes the towels and places them onto the table. He lets his hands fall into his lap with a huff. “I wouldn’t blame her, though. She’s always been a curious kid, like me. Guess it’s our joint flaw. Curiosity really does seem to kill the cat.” He pauses for a second to look down at my book on the table. Then, he looks at me, “Are we hitting a dead end here? Be honest, Sabrina. You won’t upset me.”

I wrap my arms around my knees and give him a sorrowful nod. “I’m not doubting your theory on your grandparents hunting demons, or the Reaper getting involved with demonology, but….maybe we’re not using the right sources.” It’s a bummer that the books Jughead and I exhumed from the box haven’t worked, and for some reason, it hexed Jughead. There must be a good reason why those items were cursed, and maybe it has to do with Forsythe Senior. I really hope that Mister Jones doesn’t get so angry with Jughead over the matter. Although, I do get why he wouldn’t be happy. His father abused him and made him join a gang against his will, and his classmates died during high school….

Those deaths. I rise up from the couch, an idea coming to me. “Has your dad ever talked about the kids who died? If they were related to anyone important?”

“Not really.” Jughead answers, not catching onto my thoughts just yet. “I think….really the only one he mentioned was something about the burning down of Thornhill….but everyone in town knows about that incident. It’s where this family, the Blossoms, used to live….” My mouth hangs again. Blossom? Wait a minute…..

I hurry over to the kitchen table. Salem chirps, “You’re still going on with that useless history book?”

“Hush, Salem!” I bark at him in a hushed voice and grab for the history book I’ve spent so many days analyzing. I go to the page where I tabbed the photo of the red-headed woman, Rose Blossom. I bring the book back over to Jughead and hold it out to him, pointing to the photo. “Has anyone told you about this woman? Rose Blossom?” Jughead sits up and takes the book. His eyes widen at the photo, he chuckles.

“I’m impressed, Nancy Drew. This is the closest we’ve gotten to uncovering the dark ages of Riverdale’s history.” Hang on, the closest we’ve gotten? Does that mean….

“She’s still alive?”

“Rose Blossom? Apparently....” He shrugs. “Only one to survive the Thornhill fire of ‘92. Not even her own kids made it out alive.”

“Then we can talk to her!” I could jump up and down in utter excitement! I want to squeal, but I don’t want to wake Ali up, so I just pump my fists into the air. Jughead rises from his seat, holding onto the history book.

“Okay, we’ll need to make some arrangements, around your cheer schedule, and school obviously, but….yeah, we can get the details from her.”

“This is great! We finally have a direction with your article! Do you know where she is in town?”

“That’s something I’ll have to look into.” Jughead admits to me. “After the fire, she left town. Some say she went into a group home, others think she disappeared into the deep end of Sweetwater River. Either way, if anyone has what we need to get this story on the Riverdale Reaper, it’s Rose Blossom.”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

Work has been awfully slow this morning. Granted, it’s a Monday and school has started back up for the kids, so it makes sense that Pop’s wouldn’t have any lively energy in the early morning hours. Yet, I want customers to come in, to distract me from my thoughts. Hiram’s supposed to be heading over to Greendale for Church business, so it’s a matter of waiting to see if he can get his hands on the Book.

Luckily, no other murders have happened between my time at Pembrooke and now. Maybe Hal is staying hidden until he finds a new victim, but knowing how quick he was to make a fresh kill, who knows how much longer. But I don’t need to worry about that for now. I’ve been getting up early for the past two days so I can make pies for the diner, so that’s helped to keep my mind occupied. With the slow activity, Gladys has decided to spend more time at the mechanic shop on the Southside, so I’ve arranged with her and Pop to work longer in the mornings, up until about lunch time.

I’m able to clock out around 11:15, so I make my way back to the trailer park. With me running around all over the place, and Sabrina focusing on school, I haven’t had time to clean up our trailer. So, I make a game plan in my head to stay productive and clean. It could further help to make me not freak out over Hiram’s radio silence. I contemplate whether or not to make something for lunch, or if I should meet up with Gladys somewhere on the Southside. Well, I need to save money for rent, and I have all of those leftovers from Thanksgiving still in my fridge. Maybe I can heat some of it up and bring some down to her, or even FP.

My thoughts consume me as I pull into my driveway. My stomach growls, I really haven’t eaten much since yesterday. Oh, what the heck, I can eat now and clean later. I’m so caught up in my hunger that I don’t notice a figure sitting on the steps leading up to my trailer. At first glance, I’m worried that it’s Sabrina’s cat, but the more I look, it’s not a cat. It’s a tiny human, wearing a beanie over her honey colored hair.

I get out of my car, shocked at my sights. “Jellybean?” The littlest Jones stands up at the sound of my voice. She rushes down the steps to greet me.

“Miss Smith…” She sounds exhausted, like she spent a long time crying. I can see the faint redness in her eyes. Why is she not at school? How long has she been out here waiting for me? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you! I….”

“Do your parents know you’re here, and not at school?” With sad eyes, she bows her head.

“No….I didn’t want to frighten them.” she mumbles. Then, she lifts her head and starts to ramble, “But, please! Don’t tell them! Please don’t make me go back there! The kids are so awful to me, and they….they….” She can’t finish her sentence. She bites her bottom lip to keep herself from bursting into tears. The same way I would, and still do.

I can’t leave her in her trailer by herself. And I don’t want to make the girl panic more by sending her back to school. She’s getting bullied, from what it sounds and what I can visualize in my head. I’ve been there, it’s traumatizing as hell. Do Gladys and FP know what’s going on with their daughter?

I crouch down to her level. “How about this?” I tell her softly, “Why don’t you stay with me for the afternoon, and I can bring you back to your parents later in the day. But, I’m going to need to inform them of where you are, just so they’re in the loop. Okay?” JB sniffles, then nods. I gesture for her to follow me up the steps, into the trailer.

It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with children in this fashion. Sabrina would come to me in years past if something happened at Baxter or at home. Half of the time, I feel like that witch from _Hansel and Gretel_ just luring children in with my sweets, but I have no intention to eat them, nor do I want to see them get hurt. And right now, I don’t want to leave JB to get hurt further at school. She patiently waits on my couch as I have to talk Gladys away from the cliff on the phone. Of course, she’s freaking out because her daughter left school without warning, but JB’s in a safe place, and she’s with someone she knows. So after a few minutes of calming Gladys down and letting her talk to JB on the phone, the youngest Jones is allowed to stay here with me, only if she promises to not leave school again from that point forward.

She watches me as I pick up some loose items off the floor. I’m relieved that Sabrina’s cat isn’t lurking around, it must have followed her to Riverdale High. Yet, the cat still left somewhat of a mess, so I’m stuck having to pick up after it. Once I finish cleaning off the floor, I turn to JB, “Are you hungry? You want me to make you something to eat?” She doesn’t answer me, she just stares blankly. I notice the pillow sitting on her lap. “Are you still having those stomach cramps?”

That sparks a response from her. “Yeah.” She hugs the pillow into her more. I set whatever I just picked up onto the coffee table and try to figure out what to do. Usually, when Sabrina had aches and cramps from sickness, I’d make her a spearmint chamomile tea with honey. It’s a soothing herbal remedy, and it should work for JB.

“I’ll make some tea for you, is that okay? It’ll relieve the cramps.” She thinks about the offer for a second or two, then she nods. Okay, this is a start. I grin, then I make my way into the kitchen. If I’m making JB this tea, I might as well have some myself. I begin to pull out the ingredients and bring a pot of water on the stove.

“Are you a witch?” the question jolts me out of my focus. I leave my place in the kitchen and stare at JB. Did Gladys tell her about what Sabrina and I were? Before I can ask, JB provides me an explanation, “You kind of have that vibe to you. And the clothes say it all. You could just be a hippie too, but I think you’re a witch.”

I don’t even know how to respond. So Gladys didn’t say anything, JB just figured it out. I’m impressed, but at the same time I’m wondering how JB would have known. “Don’t worry - I won’t tell my parents.” the young girl tells me with a wink. I could chuckle in relief. It’s comforting to find that another member of the Jones family knows of my witchcraft and hasn’t judged me for it. If only she knew everything about me….

“Good, or else I’ll send my flying monkeys after you, and your little dog too.” I tease, which makes her giggle. I head back to the kitchen and work on our tea. Should I also just make some food to go along with the beverage? I mean, I’m starving, but I don’t want to be such a food pusher. And I don’t want to further upset JB’s cramps. I ultimately decide to just wait it out.

From the living room, JB winces. “Miss Smith, can I go use your bathroom?”

I use my spoon to point back towards the bedroom. “Should be on the left when you walk into the bedroom, sweetheart.” I hear the little girl get up from the couch with another wince. She shuffles past me in the kitchen, going into the bedroom. I stay focused on the tea, making sure the water doesn’t boil too much. The recipe calls for the tea to be hot, not scorching. I throw the chamomile and spearmint into the pot.

A scream pierces the whole trailer, almost causing me to drop the ladle. I whip my head towards the bedroom, “Jellybean?” In a panic, I rush into the bedroom, heading for the bathroom. I go to open the door, it’s locked. Oh no, did that cat of Sabrina’s get trapped in the bathroom and attack JB? Did she cut herself on the broken mirror? My mind plays out so many scenarios, so many ways that would result in Gladys and FP never forgiving me if something happened to their little girl.

I knock on the door. “Jellybean, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

From inside, I can hear the young girl weeping. After a moment of sniffles, she pipes up, “I’m….I’m okay, Miss Smith. I’m okay…..I think I’m okay….”

“What happened? Did you hurt yourself?”

“No….” she mumbles through the walls. Okay, so she’s not hurt, but why else is she panicking? Another flare up of her cramps? There’s no other reason why she could be freaking out in the bathroom with the door locked, unless…. Unless….

“I’m….I’m bleeding.”

My hand flies to my mouth. My eyes shut. Now the cramps make sense. JB just got her first period.

XXXXXXXX

A half an hour passes since JB came over to the trailer, but now that she’s out of the bathroom, all cleaned up and with the necessary supplies, the tension has died now. She sits at the kitchen table cradling a cup of the chamomile tea I just brewed. I pour myself a cup too and join her. She’s staring down at the table with a blank look on her face. She hasn’t spoken a word since coming out of the bathroom. I’m starting to worry for her, severely.

I finally break the prolonged silence, speaking from the heart. “You know, I got my first period just a week before turning thirteen. I had no real female friends to help me get through it…..and, my mom was long gone by then. So, I sort of had to figure it out for myself. It was….I won’t lie, it was traumatizing for me. It forced me to grow up at a rate I wasn’t expecting. But it made me learn to fend for myself.” Memories of my early teen years flood back into my subconscious. Of course when I thought I hated my life as a half-witch more, my period came, sending me not only into womanhood, but into the Serpents. But times are different now, and JB has more support than ever. She needs to know that. So, I tell her, “I know this is all scary for you, sweetheart, but it’s just your body adapting. And you have resources available.” I don’t know where to go after this, so I just let my speech fade out. She still hasn’t looked over at me, making me more concerned. Maybe she’s trying to process it all, I don’t blame her. I go for a sip of tea from my mug.

JB croaks, “Are they going to make me join the Serpents?” I almost choke on my tea. What did she just say?

I practically cough while asking her, “What do you mean?”

She finally rotates her head over to me. Her eyes are getting all red and watery. She swallows a lump in her throat before answering my question with panicked eyes. “Are my parents going to make me join the Serpents, now that I’ve gotten….that I….” She struggles to finish her sentence, fighting back tears. My jaw could practically fall to the floor. I can’t even begin to process what she admitted….what she’s afraid of happening. Does she really believe that….

JB shakes her head and sets her mug down. “All the girls I go to school with call me weak for not wanting to join the gang. The only thing they seem to talk about is how they’re gonna perform their routines when they initiate, because it’s supposed to be some family honor. But….” She has to stop for a second because she looks like she’s about to break down. JB rambles, “I’m scared! Those other Serpents scare me! I don’t like them! And I don’t want to be one of them! But….but what if I have no choice now? What if I can’t get out of initiating? What if my parents won’t let me, all because of this stupid period?” By this point, the young Jones is sobbing. She curls her knees close to her and hugs them, bowing her head to cover her face. Her wails echo in the trailer. My heart is breaking for her. It reminds me so eerily of what Sabrina just went through with what would have been her Dark Baptism….

I get up from my seat and crouch down near her. I take one of her hands, causing her to stare down at me. “Look at me,” I tell her, “Nobody is going to make you join the Serpents. No one, not even your parents, will force you to make that decision. Your parents would beat up people if they did, though. You know why? Because they love you so much, Jellybean, and they would never let anything happen to you.” She stops wailing at my words, but she does sniffle a little. I do mean it - FP and Gladys would go the extra mile for their children, even if it mean they kept the kids as far away from a future in the Serpents as possible. They’re allowing their kids a chance at freedom they never experienced. One FP and I never got to enjoy when we were their age.

My tattoo itches under my Pop’s uniform. It still feels funny after the violent flare up during the trip to the morgue, but it’s not burning anymore. Yet….should I tell JB about my past with the Serpents? Why I know her father so well? The more I debate with myself on the matter, the more I realize that she needs to know that, yes, there is a way out for her. That she shouldn’t have to bear what I did.

“I’m going to tell you something.” I speak in a shaky voice. “A week or two after my first period, right when I turned thirteen, I was forced to join the Serpents.” JB’s eyes widen in horror at my confession. Before she can react, I squeeze her hand and continue, recalling the painful memories of my preteen years. “My father made me get up on a stage and perform a humiliating routine. And I got a tattoo right on my hip, where I would never have to think about it.” That’s a lie, I still think about it, and I just had recent contact with it, but I can’t further frighten this girl. “All those things happened to me because my father was a cruel man. And the same for your parents, they joined because they had no choice.” I have to pause to take a deep breath. I need her to not wig out on me, and frankly, I need to not let myself wig out right now.

I take a firm hold of both her hands. “Your mother and father are not cruel people. They have done so much right by you and Jughead, and…..” I hear my own voice cracking. I never thought I’d be admitting this about any of my acquaintances, let alone my neighbors. But by now, FP and Gladys are more than just neighbors, or friendly faces. “Your parents are two of the kindest people I’ve ever met. They LOVE you, Jellybean, and they will NOT make you join, okay? The choice is yours, and yours alone. You have the world at your fingertips. You can go and do whatever you want with your life. You understand what I’m saying?”

JB stares down at her knees, then she turns back to me, giving me a slow, dazed nod. I smile and wipe away some newly formed tears on her cheeks. I smooth down some of her hair as she releases her kneecaps and reaches for her cup of tea. She takes a couple of sips, mumbling that it’s good. I offer to make her something to eat, and she accepts with a small grin. I’m relieved that she feels somewhat better, and I feel like a weight has been lifted. My past before Hal did leave me wounded, but now it serves a purpose. I don’t want to label myself a survivor, I didn’t go to war, fight off cancer, or deal with sexual assault. But what I encountered during my early days in the Serpents did not leave me with good memories. Now, I can use my experiences to guide others to do better. Heck, I did it with Sabrina, I might as well do it for JB.

I’m about to plate up lunch for both of us when JB asks a new question out of the blue. “Why does Sabrina call you Aunt Ali?”

Her question makes me tongue tied. It’s been so long since Sabrina began calling me that, I almost have forgotten why she started it. Maybe it was because I had been with the Spellmans long enough and had been there for Sabrina going into her teen years…. Honestly it could be a number of reasons, but the nickname just stuck.

I bring the plates of food over to the table, plopping one down in front of JB. I place my hands on my hips and try to think of a response for her. I wind up telling her, “I’m not really her Aunt. She only calls me that because I’m like family to her. We’ve known each other for long enough to have that kind of relationship. What makes you ask?”

“Just curious.” JB shrugs it off….well, what it seems at first. Then, her eyes wander down to her plate with a huff. There has to be another reason why she wanted to know. Eventually, she says, “I’m asking because…..since you and my parents are close, like you and Sabrina…..that makes you….like family, right?”

I’m taken aback a little. JB considers me part of the Jones Family? FP and I haven’t seen each other since I’ve left, and even then, the only times we talk now are when I’m with his family. And I’ve only know Gladys for a handful of weeks. Does JB consider that a strong enough connection to classify me in the family category?

My mouth gapes for a while until I respond. “I…..I guess? If that’s how you see it.”

“Okay.” The corners of her mouth rise at the slightest bit. “So, in that case…..can I call you Aunt Ali too?”

I don’t know what to say. My throat clogs up, my eyes mist, my heart pounds. I had no idea I meant that much to this young girl. I didn’t know FP and Gladys think THAT highly of me, at least enough for their children to label me as an “Aunt”. Sabrina calling me Aunt Ali just became a habit after a year or two, and I just ran with it. But now, JB is asking to have that special connection as well. She really is starting to open up to me. And I can’t help but do the same.

I sit down and let my emotions show. I take her hands into my own. “Of course you can. Call me whatever you want.”

“Okay….Aunt Ali.”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

So all of school now knows of the tragedy of Chuck Clayton. The whole student body packed the gymnasium so Principal Weatherbee and Coach Clayton could announce the news. Even though most of everyone found out via social media, the news left a bunch of kids in shock, some in tears, and many girls, many of whom Chuck pursued, silently praising his death. I had mixed emotions, but V, on the other hand, she still remained numb. She only sat on the bleachers gripping my hand without a word. With the conclusion of the unfortunate information, Coach Clayton announced that a pep rally will be held this weekend in his son’s honor. All the football players standing on the court with Coach and Weatherbee lead the students in clapping. Midge pulled all the cheerleaders, including me and V, to the side to inform us that we would be performing at the pep rally as well. Which means, I’ll be spending more time dancing and cheering on jocks, and less time helping Jughead find Rose Blossom and working with Salem.

It’s a little bit before practice now, but V’s with me in the gym catching me up on the routine we have set for this pep rally, long before practice starts. I will admit, the dance is a little complicated with so many steps, but V is good to walk me through it all. After a couple rounds of practice, we finally rehearse with the song, _Sugar Sugar_. It’s only a recording, since we’re going to have Josie and the Pussycats perform it live during the pep rally. I follow V’s lead with ease as she guides me over the music. “And head roll, pop left, lift the leg up, pull back. There you go, ‘Brina! You’re getting it!” The ending comes a little fast, but after catching my place, V and I finish the dance on the same beat, whipping our shoulders out to our imaginary crowd. Well…..imaginary for the most part. Salem’s laid out on the bottom row of bleachers, but he’s not paying much attention to what V and I just pulled off. We’re both out of breathing, but we can’t help but start laughing in joy.

She breaks formation so she can high five me. “Awesome work! Midge will have to put you in the routine now!”

I place my hands on my kneecaps, regaining my breath. “You think she will?”

V shrugs her shoulders, “I mean, you learned it with me in a quick matter of time. Worse case scenario, she can have you sub in for one of the girls if they can’t make it.” Normally, someone would take offense to that statement - after so much hard work, all you get rewarded with is the position of benchwarmer? But at this rate, I’m not demanding for a high place on the cheer team. I’m only here for fun, to distract myself from thinking about home.

I wave my hand at her and stand up. “That’s fine with me.” I pant.

Salem perks up and hops down from the bleachers, prancing over to us. “Wouldn’t you want to strive for more, Sabrina? You did learn that fantastic performance at quite the above average rate.”

I raise a brow at my familiar. “I thought you weren’t paying attention, weirdo.” I snort at him, causing V to giggle.

Salem tilts his head up at me. “Oh, I was. Midge Klump needs to recognize the value you can contribute to this….little team of yours. And she’s gravely mistaken if she can’t come to see it. Not in the way Miss Lodge and I do.”

“We do, _pequeño duende_,” V joins in on the conversation, “but Sabrina shouldn’t have to feel obligated to lead the pack if she doesn’t want to. It’s cheering, not a political party. Or a coven.” She shoots me a glance and winks. V is right on one hand - I’m part of the team to just have fun, not to lead it, so who cares if I dance on the field or not? On another hand….the comment does sit a little odd with me, using a coven as a comparison for a squad of cheerleaders. Like I’m supposed to step up and take charge, the way my father grew to act as High Priest of the Church….

I reach for my neck, then stop. I keep forgetting that I take off Dad’s amulet for practice, I don’t want it to fly around and hit another member of the Vixens in the face. In fact, I don’t even know why I’m bringing it to school with me, where it could easily get stolen. Yet again, Ali and I do reside in a “sketchy” area of Riverdale, but who would want to break into a trailer just to steal some rustic looking piece of jewelry? Maybe I could trust it with V in Pembrooke - there’s high amounts of security, and I know she wouldn’t attempt anything malicious. It’s a thought….

“See we started practice early, ladies?” a dismembered voice calls out to me and V from the other side of the gymnasium. Salem becomes startled and growls, I have to scoop him into my arms to shut him up. The figure comes into the light - oh, it’s just Midge. I sigh in relief as she approaches us, placing her hands on her hips with authority. She primarily glares at V. “We were about to run over the routine with the whole squad, New York.”

V rolls her eyes at our cheer captain. “I was helping Sabrina so she wouldn’t get lost. Just trying to be a good teammate, Midge.”

“What? So, you don’t think I’m doing my job well enough?” Midge barks back, Salem growls more. Oh no, this is going to get ugly. I let Salem down and stand between the two girls.

I address Midge, “It’s the truth! Really, Midge. It’s my fault I don’t know the routine well! I’ve been so dazed out, and…..and thinking about articles for the Blue and Gold….” I’m spinning lies. I’m not really thinking all that heavily about my hunt for the Reaper with Jughead. I’ve actually have been lost in thought over home, and my upcoming trial, if that is still even happening, and now, Salem. And Chuck. And Ali’s depression. But I can’t make that known to Midge. I need her to hear what she wants - that she’s in charge and that “I am forever grateful” for even having this place on the team. “If you don’t want to throw me in, I’m okay with that! I’m more than happy just sitting on the sidelines. But PLEASE,” I practically start begging, “please don’t take it out on V. She was trying to help me, that’s all.”

Midge teeters on her feet. She clasps her hands together in front of her and stares down. She’s deliberately taking her time to answer my plea. I should have kept my mouth shut, I said too much. She’s quiet for a while until Midge brings her gaze up to me, then V, then me again.

“All I ask is that you don’t overstrain yourselves before practice. We have a lot to run over if the Vixens are going to shine at Chuck Clayton’s memorial rally.” I sigh in relief. V claps her hands together and smiles. I could glow more as well, but…..something’s off about Midge. She looks so sad, so defeated, so….tired. Is she feeling okay? Midge continues, “Actually, go take a break. Some of the girls are hitting up the smoothie place downtown before practice, so if you want to catch up to them, you better run.” My eyes widen. A smoothie place? Wow, this town really is fancy.

V lets go of her hands and turns to me. “Wanna go, ‘Brina?” I nod in excitement. If I’m stuck here in Riverdale for a while, I might as well learn more about the cuisine outside of Pop’s Chock-Lit Shoppe. I motion for Salem to follow me and V, and we’re about to leave the gym when,

“Sabrina?” Midge’s voice stops me. I turn back around to find Midge still in the same spot. Why hasn’t she moved? And what does she want from me? “Can we talk for a sec?”

“Ugh….just ignore her, Sabrina.” Salem runs his body through the side of my leg. He’s getting on edge the more Midge waits for me to go over to her.

“Can’t this wait until after practice?” V whispers in my ear, and I can tell she’s starting to get on edge too. I look over at V and start to notice her fingernails curling into her palm. An energy echoes in my ears with that movement. A little black mist appears within the space between her nails and her palm.

I place a hand on V’s shoulder, making that little mist fade away. “It’s okay, V. I shouldn’t be long. Take Salem with you.” On that note, I leave V and Salem to watch me hurry over to our cheer captain. Behind me, Salem grumbles in disapproval as V picks him up.

When I’m closer to Midge, she gestures for me to follow her, “We’re better off in the locker room.” I turn back to my friends, V looks petrified, Salem’s angrier than before. I want to go back, why can’t Midge just tell me what’s happening? But in the end, I decide not to protest and just go with Midge into the locker room.

The clock on the wall is ticking louder than usual. It’s colder too…..or is it warmer? I can’t quite tell. My senses are all over the place. Midge and I are the only ones in the locker room at the current moment, but I have an unusual feeling that I’m being watched. Is Ginger or Tina or anyone on the team hiding behind the lockers to come out with a phone and record Midge attacking me for something so miniscule? Whatever I’m here for, I need to just give her what she wants and leave.

I turn to face her. “Look, Midge, if this really is about me not paying much attention during practice, I truly am sorry.” She hasn’t faced me yet, she’s still at the door looking out the window. As if she’s waiting for us to be in the clear.

I continue to ramble as she slowly rotates herself towards me, “Being on this team has been so great, but I haven’t put the true time or effort into giving it my all, and---”

“Why are you defending her?” The question comes off so stern. My mouth stays open. I….I can’t even begin to imagine what that means. Who is Midge talking about, _her_? Wait….is she referring to….

Midge walks over to me, crossing her arms. “Why you defend Veronica so much? Is she paying you to say that stuff?” I’m baffled. Midge thinks V is using me as a vessel? A puppet?

“What are you talking about?” I manage to say.

“I mean, is she….” Midge then lights up in panic, raising a hand to bring it to my shoulder. “Oh no, honey.” At this point, she’s starting to scare me a bit. “Sabrina, know that this is a safe space, and I absolutely DO NOT and NEVER WILL tolerate bullying and hazing on this team. So, you can be honest with me----”

“WHAT? V isn’t hazing me!” my voice cracks as I step away. Now I feel like Midge is the one that’s hazing me. My words come out fragmented and rushed. “How would….why would…. V would never do that!”

Midge takes a deep inhale with a guilty expression, then she places her hands on my shoulders, backing me towards the lockers. She hasn’t pushed me against them, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that’s the next move she makes. I’m still waiting to understand why Midge believes that V has any intention of hurting or manipulating me. I’m tempted to use a spell to make her spit out the truth so I can leave.

Eventually, Midge musters up an explanation, “I recognize that you and Veronica are friends, and I would never want to sever ties between your friendship. But, Sabrina….I need you to….” She stops to find the right words, then goes on, “Be careful when it comes to trusting the Lodges.”

I’m speechless. I’m about to start fuming. So that’s what Midge wants. She didn’t intend to hurt me or kick me off the team. She wants me to stop seeing V, or to at least not put so much time and effort into our friendship. But….but that doesn’t make any sense. V was my first real friend here, besides Jughead. She told me about being a half-witch. We confronted Chuck together. How could Midge not want me to trust my best friend?

I squeak out, “What?”

Midge lets go of my shoulders. “I know it’s a lot, Sabrina, but I’m dead serious. The Lodges are a sketchy family. A lot of people in town believe that they’re behind some of the unusual things that have occurred here, and even in New York. Apparently, the reason Veronica and her dad are in Riverdale is because her dad caused some car accident to one of her classmates, and he’s on the run.” I can’t respond. How would Midge know about Nick St. Clair? I want to ask, but I’m too scared to let go of my guard.

“Who….who said that?”

Midge huffs, “I don’t know. I thought I overhead Tina and someone else gossiping about it earlier this year during cheer tryouts.” She waves her hand, “But it’s only just a rumor. We all tend to say a bunch of nonsense in this school.” I would sigh in relief, but it’s no use. The rumor about Nick St. Clair isn’t a rumor, V told me that story herself. And even if Mister Lodge did it or not, it would have been out of love for V or for her own protection.

“Regardless,” Midge continues, “Veronica has a lot of controversy surrounding her and her family in this school, and in town, and I simply just don’t want to see you get thrown into the mix.” I want to drop the conversation here. I want to just say “okay” and head on my way. But something about this talk…..this warning Midge thinks she’s providing me stands out. What did she mean when she said the Lodges were behind unusual events in this town? Could this be in relation to….

“What controversy? What happened that makes you and everyone believe that it was the Lodges to blame?” I quiz her, my detective mode coming out. If I can get anything out about the Reaper, I might as well get it out of Midge Klump.

Midge has to contemplate on the question for a moment. Then, she responds with, “My mom went to high school with her dad. They really didn’t interact much, but she….she said that there were lots of kids who died her senior year.” Kids dying….oh no, are these the same people that Mister Jones was referring to? “Though, it wasn’t because of some serial killer. My mom doesn’t exactly remember any of them super well, but she claimed that they were primarily like freak accidents. Like, one got mauled by a bear, another burned in a fire, then there was…..Veronica’s mom. She got into that nasty car wreck. But she didn’t die ‘til years later. By the way, has she told you, Sabrina? About how her mom died?”

I can’t tell if I’m numb from the absence of feeling or from the feeling of absolute horror. So these were the kids Jughead’s dad talked about. And the fire…..that must have been the Blossoms in Thornhill! But V’s mom…..what does V’s mom have to do with any of this? Midge does have a point - V hasn’t shared the details of what exactly occurred that ended her mother’s life. But would it be right of me to beg that of V? And….and is it just me, or is the clock ticking slower than usual? And why does it feel slightly hotter in here?

My sights start to blur. Midge looks like a blurry figure in my eyes. But I can hear her voice, “You know, it just seems odd that just months after that car accident, Veronica’s dad would want to date her, let alone marry her---”

The ticking stops, the energy of this room falls. Then, Midge tenses up. My vision clears as she’s about to fall. “MIDGE!” I grab her before her knees hit the floor. I stand her back up, why is it so hot in here? Why is everything so still? And….what’s happening to Midge? She’s having something like a seizure in my arms, very close to the seizure Ali had on our first night here. And it’s making me panic. I hold her face and look into her eyes. “Midge! Can you hear me? CAN YOU HEAR ME---”

Her eyes are lined with red. Her skin is turning yellow. Foam is coming out of her mouth. But…..Midge isn’t Midge right now. She….

** _SABRINA SPELLMAN_ **

A voice comes out of her, making her own voice more crackling, more menacing. It’s a voice I heard the night of my Baptism. I let go of Midge’s face. I want to run out, I want to destroy this….this whatever is happening to Midge. But I’m frozen, I can’t move. I can’t even react. I freeze and watch as this….thing in Midge’s body speaks to me.

** _I KNOW YOU’RE HERE IN RIVERDALE. I APPLAUD YOUR DEFIANCE AGAINST ME, YOU WOULD HAVE MADE YOUR PARENTS PROUD. BUT YOU ARE IN THE WRONG. YOU THINK YOU’RE BEING PROTECTED, COMFORTED BY PEOPLE WHO ARE ONLY LYING TO YOU. BUT NOT ME. I AM YOUR REAL PROTECTOR, YOUR MASTER._ **

I inch back towards the lockers, my eyes full of silent tears.

** _YOU WILL RETURN TO GREENDALE, AND YOU WILL SELL YOUR SOUL TO ME. YOU MAY BE A WITCH, LIKE YOUR FATHER AND AUNTS BEFORE YOU, BUT EVEN WITCHES HAVE MORTAL FLESH. AND IN THE END, ALL MORTAL FLESH MUST BURN._ **

The creature lunges at me. I scream and hold my arms out in front of me, shutting my eyes. Where is V? Where is Salem? WHERE IS ALI?

A thump goes against the lockers in front of me. The clock is ticking back to normal speed. The locker room is a reasonable temperature again. I hear a disgruntled, “What the hell, Sabrina?” I open my eyes to find Midge brushing off her arms. My hands are still in front of me. Did I…..did I push her? Or….

“Whatever, this is what I get for doing nice things.” Midge mutters to herself and starts to walk away. “Practice is in thirty minutes, don’t be late!” The door slams shut, leaving me…..

My feet lead the way to a bathroom stall. I fall to my knees and vomit. My heart is racing. My body aches. I had to be hallucinating, I want to believe I was hallucinating. No one else from Greendale knows I’m here besides Aunties…..right? But…..BUT….

The bathroom door flies open, a figure runs in. No, there’s two, but one is smaller. And not a human. Salem prances over to my side. V runs over and kneels down. “‘Brina? What happened?” I can’t say anything, I’m too busy vomiting, my head hurts, I want to cry.

Salem growls, “What did that Midge girl do? What did she say? I’ll find her, and I’ll---”

“SALEM, STOP!” I yell at him with all my might. I feel horrible for having to yell at him, but he promised me he wouldn’t attack anyone. He promised. Besides, what happened with Midge….it wasn’t really with Midge.

“What is it?” V rubs my back as I lift my head and turn to her. I don’t want to recall what I just experienced, but….but what if it happens again? Who would I turn to?

So I tell V, “The Dark Lord. He knows I’m here.”

XXXXXXXX

** _End of Chapter Eight_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh, Sabrina's in a load of trouble now.... Will she overcome what just happened? Will Alice ever tell FP the truth about her witchcraft? All to be revealed in later chapters....
> 
> So I will be going on a trip this week, so I don't know 100% what my chances are of updating within a week, but I hope to have another chapter uploaded before February. Either way, I will let you all know1
> 
> Thank you!


	10. Good Witch / Bad Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm back from the dead! I honestly was going to post this chapter sooner, but 1) my computer was having some problems, and 2) I started a new job this week, hence the long time away. But....I'm still here! And this story will get completed!
> 
> Go ahead and read to your heart's content!

**SABRINA**

It’s warm in V’s car. She left the heat going for me and Salem while she’s been inside the smoothie place grabbing our drinks. I still don’t feel too good after my…. I don’t even know what to call it. But the Dark Lord knows I’m here. He knows about my living condition. And when I….if I, go on trial, they’ll point that out. They’ll know I just ran away and avoided my problems. Maybe I am a coward for running. Maybe I was never meant to join the Path of Night, like all of my family before me. 

But that’s my fear talking. My subconscious is formulating these awful thoughts. I want to not think about what happened in that locker room, I don’t even know if I want to tell Aunt Ali about it. The stress of it all eases away somewhat with Salem sitting in my lap, providing me with some comfort. His paws clench onto the bottom of my gym shorts, his head rotates up towards me. He’s basking in what little sun we have left, and I don’t blame him. I almost envy him.

V returns to the car with our drinks. “Whew, the line was taking forever.” she comments as she hands me my drink order, giving Salem a scratch on the head. I still stay in my seat, numbly staring out of the windshield. V looks back up at me, “Hopefully the smoothie helps, ‘Brina. Should be easy on your stomach.”

“How would he have found me?” I croak out. “Was my arrangement made a public matter outside of Aunties and…..and your father?”

V sighs, “Honestly, I have no clue. I know my father had to go into do some business with the Witches Council, but whether it’s over you, or not, is unknown.” She takes a long sip of her drink. I reach for a straw and do so as well. Wow, this is a really good smoothie. I hope V’s right about it being easy on my stomach. I take another sip and continue to pet Salem when V asks, “Hey - just to get context, how did that whole thing happen? That way….if he comes back….” 

I set my drink down with a huff. My head flashes back to Midge - the foam coming out of her mouth, her eyes getting all red. Her voice before the Dark Lord showing up playing on a loop.  ** _Be careful when it comes to trusting the Lodges._ **

“It was nothing that important.” I start to answer, partially because I’m afraid to tell V the information….the questionable information Midge provided. But V tilts her head at me, her lips go from being a flat line to what looks like a frown. I don’t think I can lie to V, she told me about her witchcraft, and her father’s. She told me about Nick St. Clair, and Chuck. She was honest with me, so I owe the same to her.

“She doesn’t view your family as trustworthy.” I admit. “And that….the Lodges might have orchestrated, or pulled the strings on, a number of deaths. Including Chuck’s.” V goes to open her mouth, then closes it. She grips the keys to the point where the sharp grooves could penetrate her skin. I reach for her hand. “But I know those rumors aren’t true, V! I know they aren’t, because you told me so! And I know your dad wasn’t behind anything cruel….” I let my voice fade out. V starts to tear up, but she’s trying to not make it obvious. She gives me an angry smile.

“You’re not at fault, ‘Brina. Just typical slander against the Lodge family, and the fact that I can’t reveal any of my witchcraft to these neanderthals.”

Salem purs in my lap. “And you wonder why I have my views on Midge Klump. She clearly has no sense of seeing someone else’s life in their shoes. She only cares about her precious cheer team and that brawn following her around like a lost puppy.”

“The issue is not with Midge, Salem.” I have to remind my familiar, “The Dark Lord saw an opportunity to attempt to scare me into his servitude. And he just happened to use Midge as a messenger.”

“Because she’s a narcissistic control freak?” Salem comments. I roll my eyes at him.

V answers for me, “Because she has a right to be afraid of us, as does any other mortal.” She glances up at her rear view mirror, removing the smudge of lipstick from her bottom lip. “They’ll never see what a witch has to go through in order to lead a normal life. That’s why witches always tend to stick to their own kind, and not mingle so much with mortals. Guess it must have been rare when Daddy chose to marry my mother, I don’t know how he was able to bend the law on that….” V’s words drown out in my thoughts. Her mother…..Mister Lodge married a mortal woman, just the way my father did. How were both my father and Mister Lodge able to get away with it, when it’s practically against the law? And look what came of it - my parents are now dead, and…..and V’s mom….

** _Has she told you, Sabrina? About how her mom died?_ **

“You feeling okay, girl?” V gets me out of my head. I blink at her for a second. Should I ask….would it be the right time to ask? Maybe not, but if something did happen to V’s mom, maybe it could explain…..why V lost control the way she did the night of….

“I’m hanging in there. Still a little nauseous.” I cover up. She nods her head at me slowly.

“We’ll head back to practice, but you let me know if you need me to pull over, okay?” I don’t say a word, I just nod. Her smile loses its harshness, it’s a sweet smile again. She gives my hand a gentle squeeze before turning on the ignition. “You can turn on the radio if you want! I have it on some indie station, but you can change it to whatever!”

So I decide to turn on the radio as V drives us out of the parking lot. The song on the radio actually sounds good, so I leave it on this station. It’s heavy on the guitar, and it sounds nostalgic. V makes some comment about how she hadn’t heard this song since the  _ Twilight _ movies. I don’t really know what she’s talking about, but I go ahead and listen to this song.

_ Like the morning sun your eyes will follow me _

_ As you watch me wander, curse the powers that be _

_ 'Cause all I want is here and now but it's already been and gone _

_ Our intentions always last that bit too long _

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

“So you’re telling me you DON’T own a broomstick to fly around on?” JB sasses me on another question. Ever since the young girl pieced together that I’m a witch, she’s been asking a lot about my craft, what I do, if I’ve ever attempted to kidnap children in a house full of candy. They’re innocent questions, but unfortunately the limited information she has tends to stigmatize witches as a whole. So I allow her to quiz me while I’m baking her some cookies in the kitchen, and I fire back with whatever knowledge and experience I have.

“It’s an outdated practice and mode of transportation.” I tell her. “Today, we prefer riding bicycles, or just driving in vintage cars from the 60s.”

“You ever have to poison someone?”

“No. Though it wouldn’t surprise me if other witches did.”

“Are tarot card readings real?”

“Uh….how do you think I run my business back in Greendale?” I hear her giggle at the rhetorical question. She sounds a lot better, which is good. The tea must be helping her tremendously with her cramps, or….or maybe it’s just spending time away from school and instead with people who matter the most to her. 

I scoop the last of my batter onto the baking sheet when JB asks, “What kind of witch are you?” I set down the scoop, thinking of how best to word my response. By now, the cookies are all on the baking sheet. I slide them into the oven and turn my timer on. I grab my mug of tea and join JB at the table. I break down the types of magic to her.

“Well, there’s different kinds of witchcraft. It varies for each witch, you see, depending on their hobbies or location. Witchcraft can manifest in places, like garden and nature, the ocean, the kitchen, even a big city. Or just using the natural elements. The sky and stars can also be used as a main source of magic. Any witch can delve into these types of magic, but we all tend to have our areas of strength. For me…..it’s a blend of kitchen witchcraft and divination. That’s the tarot card and palm readings.”

JB nods her head slowly. I know it’s a lot to process, I was just as confused when I began to learn more about the other types of my craft. Back then, I thought being a witch meant you performed spells and hexes, made potions, and worshipped the Devil. Well, it doesn’t help when modern media pushes that stigmatized image onto society. 

“Oh. I just meant if you were a good witch or a bad witch.” I set my mug down. I could laugh, she’s so innocent in her questioning. But I don’t - I really wind up contemplating over this question. Am I a good witch? Or am I another stereotype seen in the movies? Looking back at my actions, maybe what Hal and I did could classify me under that category. And in all the years I spent between here and Greendale, I did what I could to survive on my own. But….does that make me a bad witch?

“I don’t really know, sweetheart.” I tell JB the truth. “But, I do know that, where Sabrina and I are from, witches have to choose between the Path of Light, and the Path of Night. Many witches in our area tend to choose the latter option, and they’re in this group, or a coven if you call it, the Church of Night.”

“Is Sabrina part of that coven?”

I sigh, and I have to choose my next set of words carefully. Granted, I already provided JB with more information than what a typical 11 year old could handle, but she hasn’t wigged out on me yet. “Her family is, and…..she’s still in the middle of making her decision.”

“And you?”

Another stumping question. I know I’m not associated with the Church of Night, it’s so obvious I’m not. But why haven’t I chosen that path, or the Path of Light? What’s made me stay right smack dab in the middle after all these years?

“I think that goes back to your “Good Witch Bad Witch” question. Which is….” With my elbows on the table, I gesture my hands upward, “I don’t know if I see myself going down the Path of Night or Light. I don’t know if I’m a good witch or a bad witch. I’m….. I’m just a witch. I do my own craft, and….I don’t worship anything. Lot of witches I’ve interacted with don’t like that, which is fine. I want to make my own choices, lead my own life. I prefer to be on my own.” Hearing those words come out of my mouth forces me to realize something - I really am more of a solitary witch than how I label myself. Blame it on my upbringing, or my interactions, but seeing how convoluted and cultish the Church of Night acts, it turns me away from wanting to sell my soul to the Dark Lord. On the other hand, I don’t find myself doing many good deeds to classify me as a new member on the Path of Light. If you’d ask me back then how that black sheep label made me feel, I would have shrugged it off and taken it like a badge of honor. But the longer I stay in this town, the more I interact with the mortal race, I’ve come to understand….

“But don’t you get lonely?” JB practically verbalizes my inner thoughts. “Wouldn’t you want another witch friend who shares the same thoughts as you?” In a somewhat literal sense, I do. I’m friends with Sabrina, and she’s questioned her beliefs towards the Church. But more in context to where I think JB is trying to get at….. I’ve been a lone wolf for so long. I’ve ran my own business, practiced my own witchcraft, and have not cared for anyone to join me. Yet, when I see Sabrina with Harvey, or FP with Gladys, or any couple together, it reminds me that I chose this life of solitude. I isolated myself from society…..and now I have to blend back in. No…. I WANT to. But who would even agree with my views on covens and all of that? The only other witch in this town is currently in Greendale visiting for a meeting…. Even then, Hiram seems to stick to his family’s traditions, their allegiance to the Church. But the more time I spend with him, the more I’ve come to see another side of Hiram. One that may reveal…...that maybe deep down…..

“It’s okay if you don’t right now!” JB pipes up all of a sudden. Was I stuck in my head again? I take a long sip of my tea, and as I set down my mug again, JB takes my hand. “I can be your tribe. For now! Or at least until you have people who understand”

I laugh. Oh, JB, if only you knew what it really means to be a witch. “That’s nice of you, honey.” I curl my fingers on top of hers. 

“Well, maybe you can talk with my parents! They might know some witches on the Southside!” She gets all excited and giddy. My heartbeat quickens….. She really is so innocent. She has no idea that her mother already found out, and that her father….. 

FP….. I’ve been so caught up with chasing down Hal, mending wounds with Hiram, and fearing over Sabrina, that I haven’t even planned how I’m going to tell FP everything. I’ve been here for….almost a month now, and at this point, Gladys knows of my witchcraft and some of my issues. And now JB is aware that I’m a witch. It wouldn’t be to keep leaving him in the dark. I do want to tell him, I owe it to him after 25 years of running and hiding. But how? How can I open all of my baggage up to FP? I know there will be tears, there will be frustration and anger, I can’t avoid that. But…..would he forgive me if I admitted what was going on and why I’m still here? Will he ever forgive me?

“Does my dad know? Didn’t you go to school together, or something?” JB asks out of the blue. I blink, roping myself out of my anxious wondering, and glance down at the girl. I didn’t realize that I was squeezing her hand so tight.

I take a deep breath. Daisies and candles. “Yes, we did. We attended high school together. But, I haven’t had the heart to tell your dad. Your mom knows, but not him.”

“How did my mom react?”

“Like you, she put the pieces together.” I admit to her, “Otherwise….” I have to stop myself for a second. Gladys is only aware of my problems because I practically broke down to her at a weak point. Plus, she confessed to her connection with the Uktena coven, so that helped to solidify our friendship and mutually shared secret. On the other hand, it’s only a miracle that JB figured it all out on her own. It’s going to take more than luck or family history to get FP to understand everything, the good, the bad….

“There are some reasons I had to leave town,” I explain to JB, “and why I had to come back. It’s reasons that are complicated and…..rather dark. And….it’s those reasons which….I have no clue how to present to your father without him….” I stop again, my throat getting that quicksand feeling. I shouldn’t worry myself over how he could react. I don’t want to think about it….

“You’re afraid he won’t forgive you? You’re afraid he’ll see you as a monster?” Well, that’s one way to put it. In fact, she nailed my worst fear (besides Hal finding Sabrina and destroying her soul) right on the dot. Without speaking, I nod. Yes, I am afraid that FP will never allow me to stay in this trailer pat, that he’ll turn me away and label me a monster. I’m afraid that despite all my efforts, all my lessons learned, all my time healing, I’ll be ruined in his eyes. The only person in Riverdale who showed me kindness growing up will be kind no more when he learns the truth.

JB rises up from her seat and throws her arms over my shoulders. She buries her little face into the crook of my neck, and she just stays there. It takes a good amount of strength on my end to not break down crying in front of her. Instead, I return the gesture and cling onto the girl. We stay like this for a minute or two, then she frees herself to look me in the eye.

“I don’t think you’re a monster. And I don’t think you’re a bad witch. You’re good, and you do good things, like helping me. Or helping to cook big meals.” The comment makes me chuckle. She really is so innocent, I wish I had her optimism at that age, I wish I had it now. She continues, “I mean it! I don’t think my dad would be angry at you for….why is it you left. You had valid reasons, and besides, my mom didn’t sound like she was angry either. So….why should my dad?” 

I shrug my shoulders at the girl. “You’re right. I need to…..not panic and overthink the whole situation. Smell the daisies, blow out the candles, like your mom said.” I mimic the motion, making JB giggle. So the two of us make a plan - the next time we both are with FP, we’ll tell him, together. I will admit, the idea of confessing the truth to FP still frightens me, but having JB there to guide the course of the conversation should help ease my anxiety. 

She helps me grab the cookies when they finish up, and we decide to designate a plate to give to her parents when they return home from work. While waiting out the afternoon, we wind up discussing her favorite music, books, games, anything else these younger teens are into nowadays. Strangely enough, she shares a similar taste in music to her parents - she’s into Ace of the Base, Led Zeppelin, Beastie Boys, you name it. As for the books, it varies from Stephen King to L. Frank Baum to whatever Jughead has assigned for school. She has a hankering for the Wizard of Oz books, she almost has the whole collection that she’s accumulated over the years. And the odd thing about it is that her favorite character isn’t Dorothy, or even her ragtag companions - it’s the Witches. And Ozma. “I was always begging my parents to dress me up as one of the Witches for Halloween.” JB explains to me, “Even that lady who switches heads.”

“Oh, Mombi.” I laugh. I can still recall the Ozma outfit I wore that fateful night at Penelope Blossom’s party. So, I tell her, “You know, I actually dressed up as Ozma one year - but it wasn’t anything grand. I just wore a dress over my jeans. Didn’t have a crown or anything. Now that I think about it, it was kind of lame.”

“Well, Ozma  _ was _ a boy for a while. Went by the name of Tip. It takes a whole book to discover their real identity and purpose, but that’s the point of the journey!” 

At the end of her sentence, there’s a knock at the door, making me jump. JB pipes up, “I’ll get it!” She jumps from her seat a little too quick, she has to place a hand over the bottom of her stomach as she shuffles over to the door. I place my hand on the back of my seat and rotate to see who could possibly be on the other side. Did Hiram come back? Did Sabrina forget her keys? Is Keller coming back for more questioning, or did he find out about my adventures to the morgue? My head is running through so many options. JB opens the door and steps back a bit. “Dad!”

FP steps into the threshold and kneels down to hug his daughter. “Jellybean, are you alright! Your mother and I are gonna have to talk with you later.” She mumbles something I can’t hear too well. I stand up while still bracing the back of my chair. FP notices me and lets go of her. He stands up. “Alice….I don’t even know where to begin thanking you…..”

“Don’t.” I walk over to the father-daughter duo. “You watched over Sabrina the other day. So, I owed you the favor.”

“She wasn’t too much of a handful, was she?”

“No! She was an absolute sweetheart!” I look down at JB and wink. I direct my attention fully to her, “Why don’t you go and bring the cookies we made back to your place?”

“Okay! OH, and I can find the Oz book I was talking about! With Ozma-slash-Tip!” JB grabs the plate of cookies and snags the ring of keys from her father. FP tells her to be careful as she bolts out the door. I can’t help but laugh, and neither can he.

“I guess we’re following your daughter then.” I comment. FP gestures for me to lead the way, and I make my way out of my trailer, my own keys in hand.

It’s starting to get dark out when we leave my trailer. I guess I spent so long in the trailer with JB that I didn’t realize how late it was. Sabrina should be done with cheer practice by now. Normally, I would be on my way to Pop’s, but with how Gladys and I have rearranged our schedules, I now only work the mornings. And frankly, I need the time off to recuperate, and to continue working on how to track down Hal. Speaking of which…..

“This isn’t the first time JB’s skipped out.” FP breaks our silence with a huff. “Poor kid has a hard time sitting still in class, it’s all the nerves. Plus, it doesn’t help that the other kids treat her so cruelly.”

“She mentioned something about that.” I mutter. In a way, I can feel for JB - I never got along well with the others, and I was always looking for an out. On another hand, I can understand FP’s frustration. He and Gladys work so hard to push their kids to do better, to actually care.

“Gladys and I actually have a little joke that JB’s a little mini adult.” I raise my brow at the comment. He explains to me, “She prefers to hang out with people who are older than her. And her taste in a lot of things is….way beyond what kids her age would be into.”

“Take it you got her into classic rock and punk?” He shoots me a look screaming What? Who, me? Then, he winds up chuckling.

“Okay, you got me. Guilty as charged.” I start laughing too. By this point, we make our way up the steps to his trailer. Hot Dog runs over to me the moment FP opens the door. He grumbles at the family dog to move out of the way, but I don’t mind the slobbering, furry greeting. JB has a cookie shoved in mouth as she’s about to make her way into the bedroom.

“I’m gonna find the book, Aunt Ali!” she talks with the food in her mouth and disappears. FP yells at her not to run in the trailer, but she’s already gone before he can get his point across. It’s hard for me to keep a straight face at the little moment.

“Since when did she start calling you Aunt Ali?”

“Just today.” FP then kneels down so he can pet his dog, receiving little wet kisses on the face. I make my way into the family’s living room, it looks a lot cleaner in here since I was last in this room on Thanksgiving. Really, the only messy portion of this room is a small stack of books on the coffee table and a hamper full of laundry on the couch. It certainly looks a lot cleaner than my own living room at the moment, so I will give the Joneses credit for that. 

“Really, Alice,” FP joins me in the living room and makes a start at the laundry in the hamper. “I can’t thank you enough for looking after my daughter. Most of the time, if the other Serpents are in the neighborhood, they’ll just leave her alone in the trailer without any supervision. Sometimes, I’m lucky if Fred can let me off early, or if Pop can let Gladys off, so we can come back and keep an eye on her. You know, if money wasn’t so damn tight, one of us would be at home more often, just so we can watch over the kids after school, or…..” His voice trails off. He sets down a shirt he began folding, and he grips the edge of the laundry hamper. The burn marks on his hands are starting to glimmer in the light of this room. I’m still trying to figure out where those marks came from.

I hear JB come out of the bedroom. “Well, I couldn’t find the Ozma book, so I just grabbed something else instead. Something that was speaking to me.” I don’t understand what she’s saying at first, then I turn around. She has a small red book with black lettering in her hands. I can’t read the cover too well, but…..now I know what she meant by it speaking to her. I can hear a faint whispering coming from where she’s standing. Something harsh…. Have I seen that book before?

I make my way over to her hesitantly. “What book is that?”

“I don’t know. I think Jughead had it in a pile somewhere by a box in the bedroom. I don’t know why he has this one, but….” The harsh whispering grows louder the closer I get to her. The better look I can get of this book. I reach out for it, and the moment it comes into contact with me, the whispering turns into screeching. The cover burns in my hands. It takes a good amount of mental strength to keep myself from screaming. I flip over the book to read the cover. No. Oh no. OH NO. 

“Let me see that.” FP joins my side and takes the book from my hands, right before I can have a chance to make him stop. My mouth hangs as he examines what his daughter just found. His face goes stone cold. His eyes flare up, I can’t tell if it’s in panic or in anger. The burn marks on his hand begin to glow. His hands shake, sweat begins to form on his forehead. He lowers the book, looking his daughter dead in the eye. 

JB doesn’t know what’s going on, I’m not sure if she’s seen her father in this state. “Daddy?” 

“Where did you get this?” he sounds dead.

JB rushes through her answer, “I just found it, I swear! It was in a box labeled “Dad’s Stuff”. I guess Jughead or Mom got it when they went to the storage unit last week---” The young girl doesn’t get the chance to finish her answer. FP moves past us and marches into the bedroom without a word. JB clings onto me, “What’s wrong with him? Why is my dad upset?”

“I don’t know.” I hold her hand as we make cautious steps in his direction. Even taking slow steps feels like a death sentence. From the bedroom, I can hear FP losing it.

“No….. No no no no no no no NO!”

I stand in the doorway of the Jones’s bedroom with JB behind me. On the floor, FP is on his knees, crouched in front of a box, labeled just as JB described. He runs one set of fingers through his hair, another set grips tightly onto…..a very familiar book. In fact, that whole box of items looks familiar. The whispering turned to screeching makes sense. No…..it explains everything.

It’s because I caused the burn marks. I caused the harsh whispers. Those happened because I hexed the items in that box. But the hex wasn’t meant for FP, or his children. What Jughead must have found should have never been opened.

“It’s my father’s stuff!” FP cries. “This is all Senior’s! How…..how did he find this? WHY?” A sizzle ripples through the air. FP drops the book and yelps in pain. A new burn mark just formed on his hand. No…..this hex wasn’t supposed to hurt him. I hexed all of Forsythe Senior’s items with the intent for it to hurt ONLY Senior, and Senior alone. Just when I thought I was using my magic to help FP…. I have to remember, I NEED to remember, what else did I conjure to make sure no one else would touch Senior’s stuff? What other worse magic have I created?

Well, I don’t have much time to think because FP’s going to continue hurting himself if he doesn’t stop, and JB is about to freak out behind me. I need to get FP away from this box. We need to get this box out of the trailer as soon as possible.

“Stay here, sweetie.” I mutter to JB, then I move over to where FP is crouched down. I mutter his name in attempt to get him to calm down, but he won’t listen to me. His burn marks are getting more agitated, and his skin won’t stop heating up. The power of this hex is much worse than what I anticipated so many years ago. Eventually, I grab for his face. “FP, listen to me!” He stops his crying, the room goes silent….except for the faint whispering from the hexed items in the box. He sniffles as I speak calmly, “We’ll get the box out of here, okay? We can either put it back in storage, or we…..we can burn the items! Whichever you want.”

He stares down at the ground with wet eyes. Then, his eyes dart up, not at me but around the bedroom. He speaks, “Does it matter? I don’t….I…..” He has to stop because he’s about to break down again. FP finally brings his eyes to meet mine. He’s vulnerable now, and I don’t think I’ve seen him like this since high school.

With a broken voice, he mutters, “I don’t want my children to idolize the monster who hurt me.”

I don’t blame him for panicking in this moment. I don’t blame him for freaking out over the possibility of his children growing fond of a person who abused their father. What Forsythe Senior did to FP and his mother was beyond horrible. There was a reason I hexed him and everything he owed. 

I pull FP in and allow him to cry into my shoulder, cradling the back of his head. He clings to me, the same way he would back all those years ago when he ran over to my place after a fallout with Senior. While FP was the BMOC of Riverdale, he had no strength against his father. He acted like a different person in the trailer parks, one that was more scared, more wounded. It was part of the reason he and I fostered such a strong friendship - we both hated our manipulative fathers, and we became each other’s found family. And I broke that. I broke that when I fled town, and I left him behind. It’s my fault he ended up in the Serpents. 

It’s my fault he’s stuck here, and now he has to deal with the aftermath of this hex meant for his father. My magic is starting to affect the Jones family for worse. And now, I need to do something to fix it. If this is how I have to re-reveal my witchcraft to FP….if this is how I need to make amends….then so be it.

After a few minutes, I release FP and look at him. “What do you want to do?” I ask. He takes a second to wipe his tears on the cuff of his flannel. He glances down at the box, then at his daughter behind us.

“Jellybean, can you go get the keys to the storage unit?”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

The hot water feels nice when I turn it on. V and I decided to go back to Pembrooke after practice to shower up and get some homework done. We’re not really hungry, so we might wait a little bit before ordering some food, we could go down to Pop’s or just have the staff downstairs deliver us a fresh meal. Besides, my stomach still needs a break after my upset earlier this afternoon. I still see flashes of Midge’s eye going all red, her mouth foaming, the sound of her voice. The smoothie before practice helped to ease everything, but even then, I couldn’t do much during practice. I don’t think I’ve felt this weak since…..since I had that hex before my birthday.

I let myself stand under the hot water for a while, then I finally make myself wash up. Once I finish showering, I throw my hair up into the towel and wrap one of V’s robes around myself. A couple of flashes of Midge pop into my head, but what really sticks out now is Salem’s reaction to it all. He offered to do something about it…. No, I can’t think about that! It wasn’t even really Midge that was causing the problem! But….but she did make some comments about V, and she doesn’t want me to stay friends with her. It’s typical high school drama, but is that enough to spark a plan of vengeance against her though?

I come back out to V’s bedroom and find V and Salem curled up together on her bed. He’s perched on her stomach while she reads one of our assigned readings for English class. Salem’s the first to see me enter, so he stands up and mews. He hops off V and greets me at the doorway. V shuts her book and sits up. “Feeling any better?” she asks me.

I bend down and scratch Salem’s head. “A little bit.”

“Something’s still pestering at you. I can sense it.” Salem comments as he runs his body against my leg. “I’m serious, Sabrina. If you want me to---”

I pick him up before he can finish that statement. “We are NOT going to do a thing. You promised me, remember?”

“I’m fully aware of the promise.” he tuts. “I’m only throwing the suggestion out there. In case you do change your mind.” I roll my eyes at my familiar, then I set him down on the ground. With a huff, I wander over to where V is waiting on the bed. She twists the pearls around her neck to keep her fingers busy. Part of me starts to wonder how she got those pearls. Were they a gift from Mister Lodge? Did they belong to her mother…. V’s mom. Midge brought up V’s mom during our talk. It was the last thing she mentioned before….

“You okay, ‘Brina?” V notices my fazed out state. I sit up straighter, feeling my spine stack. My cheeks feel heavy. V stops twisting her pearls and reaches for my hand. “Hey….if this whole Dark Lord thing is still bothering you, we can talk about it with my father. And with your caretaker, only if you want to.”

“It’s not that, V.” I manage to tell her.

“Did Midge say anything else to you before the possession? Be honest, ‘Brina.” She means it, I know she does. Even then, the thought of raising the question still bothers me. But I can’t just sit on this question forever. It’s going to have to come out eventually.

So, after much hesitation, I finally ask her, “V…..what exactly happened to your mom? How did she die?”

The room goes silent. V clamps her mouth shut and brings her fingers back up to her pearls, twisting them again. I knew this wouldn’t go well, what was I thinking? Why did I let Midge get to me like this? Why did I allow her to start questioning my friendship with V? I’m so stupid! Now, V’s going to get uncomfortable and, I don’t know, she might get passive aggressive about it. Or maybe she’ll ask me to leave and to never be my friend again. Maybe she’ll take Salem’s advice and go after Midge---

No. I need to stop this. I need to not overthink. Besides, V doesn’t look like she’s about to do any of those things. No….she finally unclenches her jaw and looks straight at me. She sighs, and I can see her eyes starting to mist up. “It wouldn’t be right to leave you in the dark, ‘Brina. I owe you an explanation.” She speaks up, but her voice….it’s so weak. So fearful.

V readjusts herself on the bed and lets go of her pearls. She places her hands on top of her thighs, digging her nails into her flesh. She inhales through her nose sharply before starting her story. “I told you about how my mom was paralyzed, right?”

“Right.” I answer. “You said she got into a car accident while she was younger.”

She nods. “My mother…..from all the stories I’ve heard, she was special. Like me, she was on the Vixens, had boys fighting over her. Daddy didn’t really start being with her until after her accident. Although, I find it unusual, because…..she never sounded like his type. And the fact that witches aren’t allowed to marry mortals. So…..I don’t know how he could have gotten away with marrying her. I don’t even really know how it would have been possible for her to have me. Sometimes, I wonder about that.” V pauses for a moment. I get her confusion - sometimes I wonder how my father, the High Priest of the Church, could have gotten away with marrying my human mother. He must have done something to allow the Witches Council to go through with the marriage, let alone have me. There has to be a reason I’m going on trial…..

V continues, “Anyway….I was just a  _ niña _ , only three or four, when it happened. This was back in New York…..Daddy spent the day out doing work, I don’t know if it was for the Church at the time, but my mother was home with me. Back then, I would get a bath every other day, usually provided by someone on the staff for where we lived. But that day…..my mother decided to give me my bath herself. Sent the staff home for the day. So, one minute, there she was, giving me a bath, cleaning me up….”

V goes quiet, her lips form a tight line. Her eyes go from misting to watering up. She grits her teeth before she can utter the next part. “The next thing I know…..I’m bobbing up and down in this….red-tinted tub of water. I didn’t register what had happened, I just thought…..I thought my mom was playing a game with me. She laid there on the ground all motionless, out of her wheelchair. Then my father…..he ran into the bathroom and saw her. And he just starts screaming. That’s when I realized that my mom wasn’t playing a game with me. That there’s a bad reason Daddy was cradling her body and crying. It made me upset, and it made me start crying too. And I….”

She has to stop because she cannot contain her emotions. She grips on to her pearls and shuts her eyes, tears beginning to stream down. I don’t know what to say. How exactly did Mrs. Lodge wind up dead? What caused her to bleed out? Was there a shaving razor that she slipped on by accident? A pair of scissors? What was it?

“I wish I could remember all the details of that day.” V chokes out. “Even to this day, Daddy won’t tell me how my mother cut herself. I don’t think it was suicide, she wasn’t that unhappy. But….something went wrong, ‘Brina. And something is blocking my head from…..being able to remember that. But, I was so young, so maybe that’s why I can’t recall the details. Still…..I just….” She can’t finish her sentence in between the fits of tears. I scoot in closer to her, and I allow her to rest her head on my shoulder. She latches onto me and sobs into my shoulder. Salem jumps up onto the bed so he can provide her comfort as well. I feel awful for V - she had to witness something so traumatic, so horrifying at such a young age. And I thought my world fell apart just weeks ago.

V lifts her head up and wipes away some tears. She gives Salem a good scratch on the head, then she looks down. She notices her pearls and looks back up at me. She reaches behind and removes the pearls around her neck. Then, she holds them out to me. “These aren’t the original pair Daddy gave me, I think I lost my first set of pearls years ago. But….you wanna know why I have these, ‘Brina?” I stare down at the necklace….am I supposed to have an answer? I reach out for them.

Like the books Jughead found, there’s a faint little voice whispering. But it’s not harsh, nor is it eerie. It’s a calming voice. I swear it’s saying something in Spanish. The voice even calms me down. So, what would this mean?

“I got my first pearl necklace on my seventh birthday. My powers were starting to kick in, and Daddy wanted to get me something special to celebrate that…..maybe even control it.” I take another minute to examine these pearls. The voice, the calming nature. The reason V had that awful episode when she didn’t have them on.

I look up at V. “These pearls are meant to control your condition.”

V lowers her hand, dropping the pearls onto the bed. “Daddy has never once explained to me the reason I have these pearls, but…..Yes. You pretty much nailed my exact beliefs, ‘Brina. I mean, I’ve noticed how strange I act without them on, like the night of Chuck Clayton, or even when I was with Nick St. Clair and his family. When I put these on, I…..I feel like a different person. A different witch.”

“It sounds like he’s Pavlov and you’re another animal to condition.” Salem growls. “And you wonder why I have negative views on the man.”

“I don’t really know if I can blame him, though.” V turns to Salem. “When I don’t wear these pearls, my witchcraft feels…..so out of control. Like something that’s been harbored deep down in me wants to break loose. And it’s something bad.”

“I don’t think that’s the case, Miss Lodge. I think he’s preventing you from letting your powers come to their full potential.” With that, Salem grabs for the pearls with his paw. He slides them off V’s hand then shoves them off to the side, behind me. He turns back to her, “Your father is afraid of what you have to offer to this magical world. But you should not let that stop you. Your magic is not meant to be contained. You were born to show power.” V doesn’t say anything to him. She slowly nods her head, her tears having stop when he began his…..I don’t know whether to label it as a motivational pep talk or unusual wisdom. 

Salem then tilts his head towards me, “That goes the same for you, Sabrina. You say you want freedom and power, and the Church won’t let you exhibit that. So….prove them wrong.”

At this point, Salem’s words are starting to really confuse me, more so than ever. I get the message behind his speech - I’ve said it so many times to Aunties, to the Weird Sisters, and to Ali that I want freedom and power. And the fact that I’m going on trial for just dabbing my toes into that freedom makes me angry. It irks me in ways that I didn’t know I could express. Emotions I didn’t know I could show. It’s like Salem…..is reaching to those buried emotions within me. But I don’t know if I want to have them surface. And I don’t know if encouraging V to do the same is wise. While I do agree that Mister Lodge possibly withholding information from V is questionable, I don’t think he’s doing it with evil intentions. I just need V to recognize that.

Ignoring Salem, I direct my attention to V. “Have you….have you tried to use your witchcraft without your pearls on? I mean, beyond the scope of what happened at Chuck’s house?” V has to contemplate my set of questions for a moment. Then, she gives me a response.

“I’ll be honest, ‘Brina. It hasn’t really gone too well. You saw what happened with Chuck. It had to take you pulling me out of…..whatever I experienced to calm myself down. I’ve been battling this thing in me for a good amount of my life. And no matter what I do….I’m not able to work with this…..” she stumbles on her words, “I don’t want to label it as “darkness”. I think it’s too cliche of a term. But…..it makes me go dark.” She stares into my eyes with childlike dismay. “Something’s wrong with me, ‘Brina. I’m worried that…..this thing I have is going to take control of me. I’m worried that I’m doomed to lead a wicked life, like Elphaba Thropp.” I don’t exactly get the reference, but from what V is telling me, I think I understand her fear. There’s a reason V and I became friends, and now I have to be a good friend for her.

I take V’s hand into my own. “Then let’s take control back! Since you helped me learn the dances for the cheer team, why don’t I help you with your magic?” She raises her brow at me in disbelief. Even Salem meows in puzzlement. I clarify, “Maybe Salem is right - you don’t need a pearl necklace to harness a wild magic. You need guidance, and you need methods of developing a symbiotic relationship with it. When I was first using magic as a young girl, my Aunties used these….methods they found in a book somewhere. I mean, it took a while for me to fall into the practice of it all, just because I was super antsy back then. But, those lessons have worked for me. Maybe it can help you too.”

V looks more hopeful, no longer as bewildered. “‘Brina, are you sure?”

“What else are friends for?” I smile at her. “We can even start tonight, only if you want!” V sits on the idea for a second. Then, she returns a glowing grin.

“Alright, I’ll let you help me.” I clap my hands together in excitement. “But we’ll need to start after I get some food into my system. And we might need to go quickly, because I’m not sure how much longer Daddy will be out of town. For all I know, he could come back later tonight, or even tomorrow morning.”

“I’m sure we can get you started on the basics.” Salem purrs. “And by the time Sabrina goes back to Greendale, you’ll be more than ready to fully embrace your witchcraft.” By the time I go back? It’s a long ways off to think about for now….but when will I returning? Will I ever find out if I’m returning? What if I decide to stay here?

There’s a million questions concerning my open-ended situation, but now is not the time to focus on that. Right now, my only priorities are to help V with her magic, help Jughead find Rose Blossom, work with Salem, and….to find Ali the happiness she deserves.

My stomach starts to growl. V’s right - before we go out anywhere and practice anything, I need to get a bit of energy in me. And that requires food. I turn to V. “Where do you want to eat? Pop’s? Somewhere I haven’t been yet? Even just order here?”

“Well, we did smoothies earlier.” V runs through the options out loud. “And I already treated you to food from here and downtown. Honestly, I’m okay with whatever you want, girl.”

After a little bit of weighing out my options, I say, “Wanna just make it easy on ourselves and go to Pop’s?”

V giggles. “Fine with me.”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

The car ride over to the Jones Family storage unit is mostly silent. JB is wedged in between me and FP in his truck, and I don’t know if her squished state is making her period cramps worse. She hasn’t brought up anything since her panic attack earlier, so I guess she’s doing okay. FP zooms down the streets of the Southside, wincing every once in a while at the re-openings of his burn marks. “Shouldn’t be much longer. We’ll get you back to your trailer before Sabrina starts wondering where you went.” he tells me as he goes to make a left. I nod my head in confirmation at him, then I turn my head down to his daughter.

“You hanging in there?” I whisper to her. JB looks up at me and shrugs. She whips her head back to look out the little window, leading to the bed of FP’s truck. We threw the box of Senior’s stuff back there after some time duct taping the lid onto the damn thing. Even from sitting here in the passenger’s seat, I can hear the hexed items whispering. Those items don’t want to be contained again.

“Hang on, Jelly.” FP brings his hand to his daughter’s shoulder. JB sits back down in her seat and intertwines her fingers in her lap.

She tilts her head up at him. “Promise me you won’t be mad at Jughead. He didn’t know better, same way I didn’t.”

FP’s eyes widen at her. He’s about to say something, but he winds up sighing. “Oh, God. Look, I know he didn’t, kiddo. I’m not angry at him, or you.” He looks over her head and stares at me for a bit. He lifts his hand up from the steering wheel briefly to relieve the irritation. He turns his head back to the road in front of him. “I should have gotten rid of my dad’s stuff a long time ago. I don’t know why I held onto it for so long. I thought just ripping out the front pages to those books would free me from…..” He has to stop talking for a second so he can make the U-turn. So that’s how his hands wound up so injured. He ripped out pages, and that sparked the hexing. If Jughead got his hands on the books too, would that mean…..does that mean Jughead would have those same injuries as well?

FP runs his fingers through his hair. He continues talking to JB, “But, yeah….I’m gonna have to talk with your brother later. Might actually just sit both of you down and explain everything, properly. I owe it to both of you. No more secrets, no more lies.” The last part hits me. Gladys said that to me when I admitted everything to her. She knows, and JB knows. Now, I have to give FP the truth he deserves.  _ No more secrets, no more lies. _

But before I can speak up, FP pulls into the facility where the storage unit is held. He punches in the code to open up the gate, then we wait while the metal gate slowly slides open. He drives in further, going closer to the back of the facility. We pass a few units, nearing the higher numbers, the units varying in size. Then, we arrive at one towards the end cap. I’m getting a weird vibe from this place, and it’s one that eerily matches the hexed vibe of the box. Although, I can’t tell why.

FP parks the truck and leaves it running for a solid minute before turning the ignition off. He holds the keys in between the grooves of his fingers, curling the fingertips inward. He hesitates, then he hops out of his truck, allowing JB the chance to get out. I wait for the girl to leave before I hop out myself and meet the father-daughter duo at the back of the truck. FP lowers the lid, struggling to bring it down, then he moves around to the side so he can slide the box towards us. The harsh whispers increase in severity the closer it comes to me. I try my best not to show it, but the sound bothers me. And oddly enough, it’s starting to bother JB too.

FP takes the box into his hands. “Jeebs, can you shut the door for me?” he gestures his head back to the bed of the truck. JB quickly nods then pushes the lid upward…..well, she tries to but it’s too heavy for her, so I help out. She mutters a “thank you” to me before turning back to her father. FP walks backwards and talks to me, “It’s inside here. Just come follow me.” He leads both of us into the unit, fussing with his keys and his grip on the box.

The lights above us flicker. The vibe I started to feel within the truck continues to leave me somewhat agitated. Now, I’m not sure if the building itself is just outdated, or something else….something beyond FP and JB’s understanding….. JB hurries to my side and takes my hand. She’s squeezing onto it much tighter than usual. I don’t know if she’s handling this trip too well.

I hear JB whisper, “You did something to my grandpa’s stuff, didn’t you? Is that why I have the funny feeling?” I’m stunned, really. How could she figure that out? I don’t know how I can respond, I don’t even know how to confess to FP about all of this. So, out of guilt, I give JB a mournful look. Yet, she doesn’t seem fazed by it. She doesn’t look angry, or betrayed, at the slightest bit. 

“Does…..” I start, careful so FP won’t overhear our conversation. “Does that change your opinion of me?”

“Not really.” she mutters with a shrug. “Whatever Grandpa Forsythe did to my father, he must have deserved it. Your spell, I mean. Did you enchant anything else that belonged to him?” I look ahead at FP in front of us. He comes closer to where we are about to stop, he looks ready to set the box down.

I lean in towards the girl. “I don’t remember. But….looks like we’re all about to find out.”

With JB’s hand in mine, we join FP outside of the Jones’s storage unit. The unit number F22 screams out in bold lettering. This feels so strangely like standing in front of Chuck Clayton’s metal cell in the morgue. Except, this place is more humid, has shittier lighting, and I’m with mortals. FP bends down to use his keys and undo the lock on the unit door. He shoves both the keys and the lock into his pockets when he looks at me. He takes a deep breath. I exchange a look of “here goes nothing” at him.

He lifts up the unit door. It creaks all the way up, and the lights flicker more out of control above us. I take one look at this unit - there’s not much floor space, the place is practically covered head to toe in boxes, old rugs, and duffel bags. The boxes all vary from the kids’ toys to some of Gladys’s books, then my eyes dart over to an empty space near FP’s stuff. That must have been where Senior’s box sat before Jughead, or someone else, recently took it out. Even with the empty space, the place’s unusual vibe is sitting with me. And it’s starting to get stronger with the box near its return.

FP goes to pick up the box, but before he can get it off the ground, something within it jumps, making him jerk up. A small high-pitched laugh echoes through my ears with that motion. Maybe he just moved the box himself, or my eyes are playing tricks on me. I didn’t put anything else in this box, or anything else belonging to Senior, beyond the hexes….did I? Before I can think of a possibility, FP grunts and picks up the box. He walks into the unit, turning his head back to JB, “You wanna get anything of yours outta here?”

“Umm….let me look.” JB lets go of my hand and hustles into the unit. Well, I guess I’m going in all the way now. So, I step into the unit and continue to look around, trying to find the source of this bad vibe. Where could it be coming from? Are all of these items in here hexed, and I just don’t remember placing it? From left to right, up and down, corner to corner, I look everywhere in this place. This vibe is not just in one spot…..or multiple…..it’s everywhere. This whole storage unit feels off. It all feels hexed.

“Hey, you alright?” FP taps my shoulder, taking me out of my frozen state. I bring a hand up to my mouth and cough.

I make up an excuse, “Dust. That’s all.”

“Oh….shit. Yeah, it tends to get dusty in here. Sorry, I should have told you about that.” He rotates himself to talk to JB, but I can’t hear what he says to her. A throbbing occurs in my ears, and it starts to drown out all other sound. The whispering from the box booms in my head. It paralyzes me. The affects of my vengeful magic against Forsythe Senior is now manifesting, all because someone tampered with it and let it loose.

FP salutes over to his father’s box on the ground and chuckles. “Bye, dad. Hope your crap never sees the light of day ever again.” He goes to leave the unit.

I hear it before I can see it. The unit slides down shut, leaving the three of us in the dark. The whoosh sound blows air against me, it echoes throughout. JB yelps, my heart races. FP shuffles towards the door in the dark, “What the hell?” I turn my head towards the sound of his voice. I can make his silhouette out in the little light coming from the crack. FP goes to pull the door back open. It won’t budge. He yanks, he yanks again, he gets down on all fours to push the damn thing up. Still nothing. He pulls out his phone to produce some light, and he gets JB to do the same. He brings the light down to where a little bit of light shines through between the unit floor and the door’s metal. I notice something…..and they both do too. The bottom of the door is cementing shut to the floor, and the light starts to go little by little.

FP stands up and backs away. “Oh my god.” he mutters in confusion.

“Aunt Ali, what’s happening?” JB joins my side. This whole time, I haven’t been able to move. I haven’t muttered a word. I’m stuck just like the door currently is, and the only sound I can make is my heavy breathing. I’m horrified, not just for myself, but for the Joneses. I’m coming to a dangerous realization. Whatever hex I placed on Senior’s items does not want to let us go so easily. It wants its repercussions.

A low hissing disturbs our state of silence. Well, that’s new. Where is it coming from? Outside the unit? Or….. The hissing intensifies, something within one of the boxes rattles. FP rotates around and flashes the light at the source of the noise. The box we just brought back starts shaking. The duct tape over the lid slowly breaks off. Shake, hiss, shake, hiss, the box tips over. The lid falls open onto the floor. And what comes out of the box…..

A snake formed from the pages of Senior’s books slithers out. FP jumps back, JB screams. What have I done?

“Stay back!” FP yells and grabs for a baseball bat on the side of the unit. The book snake raises its head at the noise, then it heads towards FP. It lunges, and FP swings at the thing. The snake flies back into the other boxes and falls to the floor. FP grips onto the bat and backs up towards us. “There has to be a way out of here!” 

My head is running through options – what can I do? How can I stop this? I look over to the unit door. It’s cemented shut, with no way for any mortal…… NO WAY FOR A MORTAL. But not for me. Should I, can I? FP needs to learn the truth one way or another. This wasn’t how I was planning to tell him, or even show him, but right now, it’s a life or death situation. Fight or flight. And I’m choosing to fight.

“There is a way.” I say, making my way over to the door. The violent hissing starts up again, and time is running out. “FP, keep that snake back. I’m about to do something, but…..promise me you will NOT freak out.” 

“Freak out---Alice, what the hell are you about to do?” he yells. I take a deep breath, prepping myself for what I’m about to do. No more secrets, no more lies.

“This.”

I bring my hands up, shutting my eyes. The non-verbal telekinesis spell takes over my conscious. I focus on this door, working my magic to undo the hex. It takes a couple of seconds for anything to happen, then….the door starts to crack down the middle. Light emerges through the cracking, the metal curls to the side. The resistance grows the more magic I place on the door, but my telekinesis is working. I just need to stay focused. The crack goes down to the floor, the metal curls away from the unit, back out into the hallway, the light goes out above us. Eventually, there’s no more door to break away, it worked.

I open my eyes, seeing the result of my magic, and smile. Behind me, JB cheers, “You did it! Ali, you did it! Oh, I knew you could!” I turn around right as JB hugs me. I look over at FP – his eyes are bulging, his mouth could fall to the floor. My smile fades at his expression.

He stares me up and down, trying to process what he just witnessed. “What….the….” Behind him, the paper snake rises up, like Smaug the Dragon emerging from the Mountains. The snake is about to go at FP, to strike.

But I’m quick on my feet. I fling the snake back with magic before it can make any moves. The paper snake crumbles in midair behind FP, it hisses and wails. It remains there while I grab FP by the hand. “COME ON!”

Taking charge of our group, I lead FP and JB out of our makeshift prison. We bolt down the hallway back to the exit, back to the land of the living. My heart flies out of my chest, my head reels. FP knows, FP knows, I just scared him with my witchcraft but he knows. What will he say? Will he never let me near anyone in his family? What have I done? The lights continue to go out above us, leaving us mostly in the dark the longer we remain in this hallway. JB jumps ahead to push the exit door open. I slow down to catch my breath. Only after do I realize that I’m still holding on tight to FP. And he’s done the same for me.

“So…..” FP pants in between breaths, “you gonna explain….to me…..what….the hell…..just happened?!”

I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to have you find out this way, but…..it was either I pulled that, or we would have become that snake’s meal!” The explanation doesn’t do much justice, so FP fires another question.

“What are you, a sorcerer or something?” 

“I believe the proper term is witch, FP.” I grunt. “And I’m not the only one! Sabrina is one too, as well as all of her family!” 

“Then why did you run?” The question hits hard. I’m unable to answer him right away, and he knows this. FP, realizing how harsh the question came out, steps in closer. He lowers his voice so only I can hear, “Were you afraid you were gonna get hunted or something? Were you on the lam? And…..after all this time, you never came back? I could have helped you.”

I’m fully aware of what FP could have provided. I knew he and I, at that point before I fled, were practically going to act like “ride or die” companions, even if we weren’t in love. There were so many times when I thought about going back, or at least dropping by to grab him. I thought about asking him to come with me. To leave Riverdale with me and never look back. But I was so afraid of what I had done with Hal, I hated myself. I hated what I had to do. I was afraid FP would never understand, no one would. In my head, I was protecting FP from myself. I was protecting Riverdale from a danger I created.

My throat clogs up, my eyes get heavy and wet. “FP…..” I choke out. Where would I even begin?

“Forsythe Jones.” A voice rings out. One I thought I’d never hear again, or FP for that matter. The recognition of this voice makes his concerning, calm look disappear. He’s entered full panic mode, he becomes that fearful teenage boy that dreaded hearing this voice. FP turns around, and what he sees paralyzes him. And it makes me just as terrified. What was the snake has now taken the shape of Forsythe Senior. It has the man’s posture, the scornful face, the voice. In a way, this paper demon-like version of Senior looks identical to one of those White Walkers from  _ Game of Thrones _ .

FP chokes on words, he cannot move. He’s frozen at this manifestation of his father, his lifelong abuser. “N…..no…..no……you’re not real.” FP backs up towards me. His voice trembles, “You can’t be real.”

“Come here, right now, boy.” The creature lifts its finger and motions for FP to come. It has the same mannerisms and tone of voice as Senior, and I can’t tell which is spookishly more dead-on. JB, I forgot she was still here with us, reaches for my hand. She comes closer to see what horrors await us now. The creature won’t give up, “I said, COME HERE, BOY.”

“Dad?” JB acts all skittish next to me.

“Alice…” FP turns to me, “Get Jellybean out of here. I don’t want her to see this.” The creature, unsatisfied with FP’s rebellion, takes a step forward. Then another step, then another. FP whips his head back and forth between me and this horrific thing. “Alice, go!” I’m baffled, he wants me to run? To take his daughter away while he gets attacked by the one thing he feared growing up? No…..no, screw this. I’ve done enough running. And I’ve left FP behind before, I’m sure as hell won’t do it again.

“No…..FP, I’m not leaving you!” The creature marches over to us faster, gaining speed. FP turns to me again, he’s about to say something to me. But he doesn’t get the chance. Before I can blink, the creature tosses FP to the side, sending him to the wall with a crash. FP falls to the floor with a groan. The creature goes at FP again, using its paper fingers to slash at him, little splurts of blood fly up. JB freaks out, I’m motionless. I can’t make myself do anything while I watch my childhood best friend get slaughtered by a version of his father. The creature drags FP back down to where we just freed ourselves. FP kicks and tries to crawl away, but this creature is too strong. I can’t stay like this. I have to do something. I have to….I need to save FP.

The creature pins FP to the ground. It creates a blade out of its paper fingers, and it dives into FP’s stomach. Blood comes out of FP’s mouth, he coughs it up. With sorrow eyes, FP looks up at me. “Go…..” he tears up. “Please….just save my daughter. And…..and……tell Gladys I love her.” The creature sends its dagger into FP further.

That’s it. I refuse to watch my friend die. I raise my voice so FP can hear me, “You can tell Gladys yourself.” I let go of JB, letting my anger and my sadness guide my next decision. The darker part of my magic, the same energy I used against Hiram, builds up. It makes my fingers curl. It leads me to go to where this creature is holding FP captive. The creature goes to strike again, but its arm freezes midair. I hold it there with my magic running through me. With a flick of my hand, the creature peels off FP. It screams in Senior’s voice, it falls back on the ground. I stand over FP to protect him from further attacks. The creature stands up and stares straight at me. It’s pissed now, it knows what I am capable of. The creature howls and sprints at me.

I bring my hands up and muster up whatever nonverbal magic I can. The magic bursts out of me. I produce a banshee-like scream. The creature crumbles in its place, then it starts to catch on fire. The paper armor it used as skin burns away, the words on the pages melt. My scream intensifies the longer I have this thing under my control, my power. It screeches as its form disappears into smoke and ashes.

It’s gone. What belonged to Forsythe Jones Senior, whatever was hexed, is now a pile of ashes. My scream fades out, my hands fall to my sides. The dark energy in me soothes and mitigates. I feel exhausted now, my knees could turn to jelly. I teeter a bit in my place, but eventually my knees give out. I collapse to the ground. A trickle of blood, or something similar, runs down my nostrils. I know I went overboard again, but I had a real purpose this time. I used my magic for good.

Below me, FP croaks, “Ali?” I look down, blood is expanding all over his shirt. The wounds he received could lead to a fatal fate if these don’t get treated. It hits me that FP could die.

I gasp, gaining back my strength. “FP!” I slip my arms under his and lift him up. I get myself standing again, and I throw one of his arms over my shoulders. “Hang on…..you’re not dying here.” I fight to hold back tears. “I won’t let you die, FP Jones. I won’t.” I limp forward, doing my best to get FP out as quick as I can. I look out to where JB has been frozen this whole time. “JELLYBEAN, HELP!”

My cry for help causes JB to hustle over to us. She takes the other side of her father, and the two of us get FP out of this hallway, out of the building, back to the truck. I get JB to remove the keys from FP’s pocket so she can unlock the car. She whips her head to me, “Are we going to take him to a hospital?”

“I don’t know if we have time.” I pant. “I’m going to do my best to treat his wounds. It’ll take a lot of focus for me, so….Jellybean, I’m going to need to ask you a very big fav---”

“I can drive!” JB gets my message before I can finish. She gets the doors open so I can help FP in through the passengers side. He doesn’t register at first that it’s his daughter at the wheel and not me. Once I climb in, I ask JB to take us back to the trailer park. If I can at least get these wounds to not have FP bleed out, maybe I can get Gladys to help me patch him up. That is….if she doesn’t see the situation as my fault. She won’t blame me for what happened…..will she?

I don’t have much time to think of what’s to come. I need to focus on getting FP healed to the best of my ability. JB pulls out from the parking lot, punches in the code to open the gate, and gets us onto the road. In the meanwhile, I place my hands over where FP has been stabbed. I begin my work.

“ _ Rivers must flow that blood may not. Blood be bound, and blood be clot. Rivers must flow that blood may not. Blood be bound, and blood be clot. Rivers must flow that blood may  _ Jellybean, can you pick up the speed a little bit, sweetheart?  _ Rivers must flow that blood may not. Blood be bound, and blood be clot. Rivers must flow that blood may not. Blood be bound, and blood be  _ FP, stop squirming around!  _ Rivers must flow that blood may not. Blood be bound, and blood be clot. _ ”

The wounds on FP’s abdomen and stomach begin to seal together. The blood that spilt seeps back up. FP groans in pain, and I’m doing the best I can to keep it together and not fall apart. Okay, so he won’t die, but what are my chances of maintaining this? Nevertheless, I continue to chant the healing spell, I focus my energy on getting FP as close to not dying as possible.

JB zooms into the trailer park’s entrance. She gets us pretty close to where the Jones’s trailer is located and brings the truck to a halt. I finish up the last of my chant as JB hops out of the truck. I hear as she calls for Gladys, bolting towards her home. I look down at my work – the wounds have sealed up for the most part. Yet, FP is still crying out in pain, maybe he’s still in shock of it all. I look down at him, “Shh shh shh…..It’s okay, FP. You’re going to be okay.”

From the distance, JB returns, Gladys trailing her. She sees FP in the truck with me, her eyes widen. She screams, then she sprints over to my side of the truck. Gladys gets the door open and helps me pull FP out. “What happened?” she sobs as she helps me guide him into the trailer. “Who did this to him?”

“Something in your storage unit.” I explain in a calm mode, although I feel like breaking down myself right now. “It was bad magic, so I got rid of it. And….and I tried to save him….I tried, Gladys….” JB gets the door open for us, and we lead FP inside. Gladys takes the brunt of FP’s bodyweight and relieves me of the burden. She looks at me, and I don’t know whether she’s angry or sad. I don’t know if she will see me differently after this.

But to my surprise, Gladys whispers, “Thank you.” Then, she leads FP into the bedroom. I hear FP groan all the way in, his wails echoing through the trailer.

I stand there in the Jones’s trailer, and I finally look down at myself. FP’s blood is all over my hands. It stains my nails. It’s painted all over my Pop’s uniform. Yet, I don’t know if it’s his or my own, since I had that nose bleed again. The shock of my own physical causes me to lose whatever calmness I forced myself to have. The tears flow out of me, I choke out sobs. I stumble backwards and melt into the couch. My elbows remain glued to my sides, my bloodied hands shake. And I can’t stop crying. I can’t find the strength to stop.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

We set up on a picnic table in Pickens Park. I’m cradling what I have left over of my fries from Pop’s, grabbing one to munch on. V paces in front of me, tapping her fingers on her cup of peppermint hot chocolate. Salem’s perched on the table next to me, acting as our lookout. V huffs and turns to me. “Should we wait until morning? What if someone finds us?”

Salem meows, “No one will come over to you ladies. That’s why I’m on lookout, remember?” I finish chewing on this fry before I set the container down. I pick up V’s pearls from my lap and leap off the bench.

“We’ll just run through a few drills,” I explain to her, “and if you need to stop, I have these with me.” I lift the pearls up so she can see them. “No matter what happens, V, I’ll be here. You have no reason to be afraid.”

V gives me a small smile. “Thanks, girl.” She takes another deep breath, then she sets her drink down on the table next to Salem. “You going to keep my drink warm,  _ pequeño duende _ ?”

“I….was actually going to scope out the area. Just in case.” Salem responds in an unusual manner. He jumps down from the table and runs his body over V’s leg. “But I’m nearby in case you need me, Miss Lodge.” V bends down and runs her fingers through his fur. Salem turns back to me, “I should be back soon, Sabrina!” Then, he trots away towards Fox Forest. How odd….why would Salem need to “scope out the area” when we’re the only ones here? I look up at the sky, trying to focus not so heavily on Salem’s behavior. I wonder if it will start to snow in Riverdale soon. I wonder if Greendale has gotten any snow yet.

I return my gaze back down to Earth and reach for a book in my bag. With V’s help, I found a good book on handling witchcraft from Mister Lodge’s study. It’s one that’s pretty similar to a book Aunties had around the mortuary growing up. Even Ambrose has worked on a couple lessons with me from there whenever he wasn’t working or flirting with customers.

I flip the book open and go to a random chapter. It covers how to arm and defend, an ancient practice I remember learning at a young age. Okay, this should be easy. I look up at V, “We’ll start small. When I was seven, I needed to learn how to disarm any attackers, as well as how to slit a throat. Obviously, we don’t want to kill anyone here! But….” I wave a hand in front of me. I use telekinesis to take some spare twigs and branches from the edge of the forest. With those, I begin to craft a little dummy for V to practice on. “This should suffice for now.”

“You had to learn how to slit a throat?” V chuckles in bewilderment. “Wow….I don’t think Daddy ever had me do that. Granted…..a lot of the witchcraft I learned didn’t fit many of the Church’s traditions. I mean, I went to mortal school when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Likewise.” I laugh. Typically, witches aren’t supposed to attend school up until the time of their Dark Baptism, then they attend the Academy of Unseen Arts. Yet, because of my genealogy, it was a miracle Aunties allowed me to attend a school with mortals. And it must have been the same case with V.

I redirect my focus back to the lesson in this book. “Okay,” I begin to paraphrase what is written, “So to disarm an opponent, you can use either physical combat or any kinesis spells. Since you have a dummy here, why don’t you use some nonverbal magic to start off.” I close the book and make a dagger out of what remains from the twigs. I turn back to V, clutching the pearls in my coat pocket. “Just breathe. And if you need out, give me a signal. If you’re able to…..if you’re not trapped in whatever you have.”

“I’ll try my best.” V starts to make her stance. She shakes out her hands and exhales. I take a few steps back just to give her some space. V closes her eyes. Her fingers curl into her palms, her feet plant firmly on the ground. Using my own magic, I force the dummy to walk forward. It carries the makeshift dagger in its hand and holds it up. V hasn’t moved, and the dummy continues to move towards her. If she doesn’t snap her eyes open soon….

Her hands form tight fists. She opens her eyes, and the same dark color consumes that space. Dark mist swirls around her hands. Little veins appear on the side of her eyes. The dummy is merely a few feet from her. It goes to lift the dagger. V unclenches one of her fists. Its hand holding the dagger snaps off and flies to the side. The dummy doesn’t give up the fight so easily. Hand or no hand, it takes another step. V lifts her hand up and grits her teeth. The dummy pauses in its place, its body shakes. Her fingers crinkle in front of her, the dummy…… Oh my. The dummy begins to crumble to pieces. Twigs and branches break apart. Limbs snap, causing the remains to crash to the ground. V curls her fingers inward and twists her hand. Before I have time to process it all, something within the dummy sparks up. Next thing I know, it catches on fire.

My mouth hangs. I…..I don’t know where to…… I knew V was powerful just from the night of Chuck alone. I didn’t know she held that much power with this thing. I stay still and watch as V has to fight to get herself out of this state. She wriggles her head a couple of times, opens and closes her fists, and takes multiple deep breaths. After a minute, she blinks, and her thing is gone. Her eyes go back to normal, the veins on her face fade. Something black starts to come out of her nose, the same way it did the night of Chuck. She’s astonished to find the dummy in flames. 

She looks over at me, half amazed and half embarrassed. “I wasn’t supposed to set it on fire, was I?” I clamp my mouth shut and lift my shoulders up to my ears before releasing them. 

“At least you got yourself out of it?” I try to sound optimistic about the situation. The fact that V could produce that much violence is an area of concern, but her target was only a dummy. Bringing that level of witchcraft onto another person may draw some major red flags.

V huffs. “I destroyed it, ‘Brina. I was only supposed to disarm it. If I can’t do that simple task alone---”

I leave my spot and hurry over to her. I take spare napkin and start to clean up the area under her nostrils. “It’ll be something to work on! You pulled yourself out without needing me, so that’s at least a good start, right?” She doesn’t look like she believes me, she continues to look so sorrow. I take her hands into my own, “It’s just like the dances for cheer. Or like learning a new language. We just need to keep practicing, that’s how we’ll get your condition under control. Okay?” That seems to cheer her up. She forms a small grin and nods. Some of the twigs crack from the flames, spooking us both.

“Should we get rid of this fire?” she asks, making us both cackle. So eventually, we both use some magic to ease the flames and to scatter the bits and pieces of the dummy back into the woods. We decide to take a break from the magic by going through the trail in the park. Once we clean up our area and throw out our garbage, V takes her drink and we make our way down the trail. It reminds me of the wooded area back at home with all the tall trees and the moon shining through. I would expect in a town like Riverdale, and even back in Greendale, that walking around in the woods so late at night would be a little dangerous, but the temperature has gone down significantly, and it’s a school night, so I guess V and I are safe. Speaking of safety, I wonder why Salem hasn’t returned back to our table, or why he hasn’t tried to find us. Wasn’t he supposed to come back by now?

“Oh boy.” V comments. She points out to an area right near us. “Of course we’re near Lovers’ Lane. This is a place you DON’T want to be caught in, ‘Brina.” I look out to where she just pointed, and I spot a quiet road through the trees. One car with some lights on sits in the middle, over on the other side of the woods.

“Why do they call this Lovers’ Lane?” I twist my head towards V.

“If you’re a young, hormone-driven couple, and you don’t want your parents hovering over your neck, this is the only place to get some freedom…..if you know what I mean.” Oh….so it’s a hook-up location. When Harvey and I wanted to go someplace by ourselves in Greendale, we could just go to quiet corners in coffee shops downtown. Even though I know the woods back home, I also understand why the mortals of my town want to avoid the heavily wooded areas.

V and I are about to keep going, but something about this car makes me keep looking at it. I have a funny feeling that…..that I’ve seen this car before. And the more that I look at who’s inside….

“No way…… Is that Moose and Midge?” V laughs. I could too, but my mouth just stays open. What do you know, it is my cheer captain and the boy who made Ali’s career at Pop’s. What could they both be doing out here on a Monday night? And…..and what’s that in their hands? It looks like those Pixie Stix candies with the small colorful striped tubes. They both rip the tubes open and bring whatever content is inside to their mouths. What are they doing?

“Wow….Jingle Jangle? How did they get their hands on that?” V comes off shocked. Jingle Jangle? I have to take my sights off Moose and Midge so I can ask V what exactly Jingle Jangle is. She explains to me, “Drugs, ‘Brina. It’s our town’s version of weed. Or crushed up Adderall. Whenever teens can’t get their hands on alcohol from their parents, they snag this. And guess where from? Southsiders.” I don’t know what to say…..the Southside produces drugs? They have drug dealers? I hope Jughead and his family aren’t involved in that business…..

V goes on to detail the transactions between Southside drug dealers and Riverdale students, but after a minute, I’m not able to pay attention to a word she says. An unusual vibe hits me, followed with a low whisper. My senses get heightened with this strange vibe. They lead me to stare out into the woods in front of me….. A dark figure goes through the trees, not seeing us in the distance. This figure moves slow, I can’t tell if this figure is human or not. From what I’m able to see…..this figure looks hooded. It wields a weapon in its hand…..or hand-like structure. It’s heading towards Moose and Midge in the car.

“‘Brina? What’s wrong?” V places her hand on my shoulder, unaware of what I’m seeing. I watch as this figure makes its way out to Lovers’ Lane, nearing the couples’ car. What is this….. Oh no. Is it going to attack them? Is it going to kill them?

Instinct causes me to make a run for it. I head in the direction of this attacker, I feel like I’m flying as supposed to running. “HEY!” I call out, trying to get this attacker away from the car. I call out again, but I’m too far away. It can’t hear me. It’s about to emerge from the woods, but it waits by the side of Lovers’ Lane. I look back behind me…...V hasn’t moved. In fact, she doesn’t know what’s going on. She’s paralyzed in her condition again, her eyes consumed by the dark. 

“V!” I have to run back to her, I can’t leave her here in the woods! What if this figure comes and gets her too? “V!” I stop in front of her and try to shake her out of it. What’s happening to her? Why did she slip into this now? I shake her shoulders, I scream her name, nothing is working! I start to panic, time is running out, and Moose and Midge could die if I don’t return to help them! But V is in danger too!

Then I suddenly remember - the pearls! They’re in my pocket! I reach my hand in and fumble with the pearls in my hand. I quickly throw the necklace over her neck and clasp it together. This has to work, this NEEDS to work. “Come on, V! Snap out of this! PLEASE!” Seconds pass…… then V returns back to normal. She coughs, and I sigh in relief.

“‘Brina? What…..” she seems so dazed. So, she doesn’t even realize she was in that state. I’m about to tell her what’s going on when a gunshot rings in the distance. Then another. A scream pierces the night.

I turn my head. Moose! Midge!

“COME ON!” I grab V’s hand and sprint towards where the attacker went. I look out. Moose is…… Oh no, Moose is bleeding. He lies over Midge’s lap as she rests her back on her window, screaming. The figure leaves Moose alone, it goes around to Midge’s side of the car. V and I come out of the woods just as the figure goes to break the window.

“HEY!” I yell, stopping the figure in its motion. It looks up at me…..those eyes. The figure has no visible face, or human-like features that are clear in this lighting, but its eyes stand out. Where have I seen them before? The figure lowers its hand and begins to move towards me. I can’t waste anymore time! I lift my hands and use telekinesis to fling this figure back. It flies into the woods and crashes against a tree. I wait for the figure to rise back up, to come back and attack me. But it doesn’t - it takes one look at me, and disappears in the opposite direction. I don’t know whether to classify my actions as a victory or as a tactic of fear.

I direct V, “Go free Midge. I’ll help Moose!” V runs over to Midge’s side and helps her out of the car. Meanwhile, I go over to where Moose groaning in pain. I’m horrified by what I find on him - there’s a mixture of bullet wounds and violent scratch marks on the front of his body. His shirt is torn to pieces, and he’s about to bleed out. He looks up at me, unaware of what just happened. “Hang on, Moose!” I grab for his ankles and begin to pull him closer to me. Once his feet hit the ground, he yelps. I reach for his torso, and I pull the rest of him out of the car. I lean him against the car as I examine his bullet wounds. I can use a healing spell to keep him from dying!

So that’s what I do - I tell Moose, “Don’t panic, okay?” He doesn’t respond, he just watches with dreary eyes as I start my spell, “ _ Rivers must flow that blood may not. Blood be bound, and blood be clot. Rivers must flow that blood may not. Blood be bound, and blood be clot. _ ” I repeat this over and over until Moose’s wounds seal up, the blood stops coming out. The bullets that pierced his body pop out. His shirt doesn’t mend back together from the ripping, but where he was scratched at heals up too. Moose winces at the sensation of this healing. Once I get enough of him healed, at least to where he will not die, I stop chanting. I turn to the side, just as V and Midge come to witness what I’m doing. Midge looks distraught, V still looks dazed but provides the other girl comfort. I look up at Midge, still holding my hands over where Moose was shot.

“Where are the keys to this car? We need to get him to the hospital - now!”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

My head feels so clogged up right now. My mind races, my brain throbs, my throat is sore from all that crying. FP knows. FP knows the truth, and he almost died because of it. I’ve stopped crying so heavily now, but any further thought of the attack at the storage unit could get me going again. I haven’t even bothered to wipe the blood off my hands, or my face. I’ve been on the Jones’s couch since arriving here. Since Gladys took FP back into the bedroom to get him all patched up and medicated. What will she say to me when she comes back out? Will my friendship with her end because of tonight? Will she never allow me to come near her, or her husband, or even her daughter again? I think of all the scenarios, good and bad, all in between. I think of Sabrina, wondering if she’s safe wherever she is right now. I think of Hiram, when will he come back from Greendale? Will he find anything? And I think of Hal….. Where is he? When will he makes his next move? IS he going to make another move?

Oddly enough, the more I think of Hal, a dread forms in me. No…..it’s a feeling I experienced the night of my dinner arrangement with Hiram. The throbbing in my head increases. A new vision in my head appears. Some boy and his girlfriend, or sister, are in a car somewhere. This thing, whatever I’m inhabiting, shoots at the boy. The girl screams. This seems like a perfect set up for a B-rated 1950s horror film. A hand reaches for the boy, I guess it’s trying to get the girl, but the boy is blocking the path. So the hand slashes----

A damp cloth dabs at my nose. I come out of my weird vision, the attack in my head fading. Was…..was that Hal just now? And…..have I seen that boy before? I’m not able to answer my own questions, for my attention goes to whoever is cleaning my nose. I look over - JB is perched on the arm of the couch dabbing at my nose.

“Sorry.” she mumbles. “Your nose was bleeding again. You haven’t gotten any of the blood off from earlier.” I glance down at my hands, my outfit. They’re all still covered in FP’s blood, mixed in with my own.

I sigh and look back up at the girl. “Oh. Thank you, sweetie.” She finishes at my nose, then she hops off from the arm. She sits across from me on the coffee table and begins to wipe off my hands with a new damp towel. Hot Dog whines as he sits outside of the bedroom. He wags his tail anxiously, and frankly I could do the same. I don’t know how FP is doing, I don’t know if Gladys is okay. The whole situation, as well as the waiting, is putting me on edge. I’m surprised that JB has kept her cool.

She talks to me as she finishes cleaning my hands. “Mom thinks it might be best if you stayed with us for the night. Well…..with my parents. She wants Jughead and I to stay with Archie and his dad up on the Northside tonight. Jughead doesn’t mind…..” She goes quiet. I get the hint that she may not be fine with this arrangement. JB takes the towel away from my hands and flops down next to me on the couch. “Don’t be upset, Aunt Ali. I’ll be alright. Besides…..I know you’ll be watching over my dad. As will my mom. You saved his life, you know.”

I keep my gaze in front of me. My mixed emotions could make me burst into tears again. I don’t feel like a hero, despite JB’s positive outlook. I feel so guilty, I caused this to happen. I caused the Joneses to get injured from the hexes I placed. I caused an evil reincarnation of Senior to attack FP. I caused FP to get injured, to almost die. My hands shake again, my throat clogs up. I shut my eyes, wishing the pain in my head could stop. JB grips onto one of my hands, making it stop shaking so violently. I let out a breath and open up my eyes. I glance over at JB as she smiles at me.

The bedroom door finally opens. Hot Dog rises from the floor and pants as Gladys emerges. She runs her fingers through her hair before she bends down to pet the dog. I rise from my place on the couch, still holding onto JB’s hand. Gladys moves out of the kitchen and approaches us slowly.

She turns to me, “He’s gonna be okay. He’ll need a crap ton of painkillers to relieve him of any aches, but…..it’s not the worse thing he’s been through. Not the worse thing I’ve had to patch up.” She places her hands on her hips and sighs. I can’t tell if she’s holding back her tongue to keep from snapping at me, or if she’s just tired. Either way, I don’t know if I can bear having Gladys be angry at me, and I don’t know what it would result in.

I let go of JB and meet Gladys halfway. I clasp my hands together nervously, “Gladys…..thank you. And I…...and I’m so sorry about…..I didn’t know…...I was only trying to…..” I can’t form a sentence to save me, so I give up. My lips jam together, I bite my tongue. Gladys brings one hand up so she can squeeze my shoulder.

“Hey…..you did what you could, witch.” Her voice is oddly comforting, she doesn’t sound angry at the slightest. This eases my anxiety, but I still shouldn’t get my hopes up too quickly. She goes on, “I oughta be thanking you, really. You kept my husband from dying, and you watched after my little girl today.” Gladys gets a little teary eyed at the mentioning of JB. I wonder if JB has shared the news of her first period to her mother yet. Gladys blinks back any forming tears and inhales, “Whenever you’re ready to talk to him, he’s in the bedroom. I’ll get some clean clothes out for you.”

“Thanks.” I mutter. She lets go of my shoulder, then she whistles for Hot Dog to come away from the kitchen. She moves around me to join her daughter in the living room. I stare at the bedroom door for a little bit….. What will FP say to me? What will I say to him? The truth is already out. All that’s left is an explanation, followed by one hell of an apology. Smell the daisies, blow out the candles.

I take a couple of steps towards the bedroom. Behind me, JB pipes up, “Aunt Ali?” I stop, turning my head back to the little Jones. She gives me a big Cheshire Cat smile. “I knew you were a good witch.”

I get all misty eyed. My spirits lift, somewhat. I’m still so caught up in my emotional dread, so the fact that this little comment from JB could ease that dread must mean something. In attempt to keep my emotions under check, I return a little closed-mouth grin to her. Then, I fixate my attention back to the bedroom. The door hangs open, begging me to enter. I can’t wait on this any longer. No more secrets, no more lies.

My feet lead me to the entryway, my heart flies out of my chest, my head throbs less. The door blocks me from seeing into the room, keeping me from seeing him. I place my hand on the door and run through a couple cycles of breath, just to get the nerves out. Once my anxious flare ups fade to a manageable degree, I push the door open. The one lamp in the bedroom produces the only light, everything else falls into the dark. Well, not everything. I don’t notice the bathroom light until it shuts off. I bring my sights over to where the light went off. FP emerges out of the bathroom, wincing as he throws on a clean flannel. He doesn’t look at me until after he gets his arm through his sleeves. I can see the sadness and fatigue in his eyes, can he tell that I feel almost exactly the same? We don’t say a word to one another for a while, we just stare at each other, hoping that the other person across the room will make the first move. A minute or two passes, then FP lets out a cough. He wanders over to the corner of his bed, approaching me cautiously.

He swallows a lump in his throat before he speaks, “Take it you had a better way to tell me about…..you?” I don’t say a word to him, frankly because I don’t really know what to tell him. He goes to wipe his mouth with the cuff of his flannel. He goes on, “I know you hated it here…..I don’t blame you for runnin’. I mean…..I get if you were afraid of…..getting hunted or something.” He pauses again, is he waiting for me to back up his answers? To defend myself? “I don’t think anyone around here would’ve given a shit about you…..being a witch. And even if it did bother them……”

“Other people’s perceptions of me didn’t force me to leave town.” I finally step in, my voice coming off louder than I originally anticipated. FP’s mouth clamps shut at my words. Feeling somewhat remorse for my tone, I follow up with, “It was guilt, more than anything. And…..safety. Not my own safety, but…...the safety of everyone in Riverdale. Your safety, too.” The last part causes whatever barrier I placed to bottle up my emotions to crumble. Seeing FP so drained, so…..I don’t know if he’s unhappy with me. The uncertainty of this whole damn confrontation makes me want to vomit. To cry. To…..

I stare down at the ground while the tears form in my eyes. If you thought I hadn’t cried enough today, this is about to be the icing on the cake. I don’t want to break down in front of FP like this. I don’t want to act so vulnerable and practically plea for his sympathy, or his forgiveness. But I want him to understand, to finally learn why it was I really left 25 years ago. That no matter what would have happened other wise…..that maybe leaving Riverdale was…..

“FP….” my voice cracks as I look back up at him. I wind up rambling, “FP, I’m so sorry I left you all those years ago. I wanted to come back, I really did. I wanted to bring you with me. But…..I was scared of myself! What I did…..what I had to do, I would have put you in danger if….. I constantly worried about you, though. I worried that you would never leave, that you would fall victim to your father, and the Serpents. That you would never find the happiness you deserve. But…..but I see you now, and…..FP, you’re so happy. You’re happier, and I think life worked out the way it should have. I mean, you’re still in the Serpents, but you got your drinking under control. You have two intelligent and kind children. And Gladys…..she’s been so wonderful, and so caring, and…….and I know you love her, FP. And she loves you all the same. You found happiness with her, and with Jughead and Jellybean. You found a real family.” I have to pause for a second, not only because I’ve lost my breath, but because the realization of how much FP has grown within the past 25 years dawns on me. Would he have met Gladys and had his children if he went on the road with me? Would he have been able to avoid his alcoholism while with me? Would he have been happy living a nomadic life with me? Would he be the way he is now?

I stare up at the ceiling, unable to control my tears. “Maybe it was a good thing I left. Riverdale needed to move on without me. It needed time to heal…..and maybe I needed to heal too.” I manage to look back down at FP. He’s crying too, but he’s able to mask his emotions under a neutral face. “I needed to grow, to get myself back under control…..to realize that I would have caused you, and everyone else we knew, more harm than good.”

His mouth unclenches. His hands fall to his sides. His eyes go from sleepy to lit up, to mild anger. “Why would you say that?” I stumble back a bit at the rising of his voice, I don’t expect it. I don’t have much time to process the meaning of his question, FP leaves his spot and comes closer to me. I expect him to yell at me further, tell me to get out of his trailer, to leave and never come back. To confirm what I feared.

But none of those things happen. Instead, FP pulls me in for a tight embrace. My chin rests in between his shoulder and his neck. His arms wind up caressing my back. The unexpected gesture, the warmth of it all, brings about a new wave of crying for me. My fingers make my way up his shoulders, I let myself return the hug. His mouth hovers above my ear, I hear him sniffle. FP whispers, “You and Sabrina are safe here. You…..you are family. You mean so much to me…..just as much as Gladys, just as much as the kids. Don’t run again, Alice…… Please….. Stay….. Let me protect you. Let us protect you.”

The pain I felt earlier fades. The fears I built up disappear. It’s this little confirmation, this finding of a family I never thought I would join…...it’s enough to make me want to stay. It makes me want to protect the whole Jones Family. It confirms that from this point forward, whatever happens, FP and I are going to be okay.

XXXXXXXX

I don’t know what time it is when I finally exit the bedroom. FP and I didn’t speak much after our moment of closure, we just sat on the bed and held onto one another for awhile. Eventually, I needed to leave so he could get some rest, so I don’t leave Gladys out in the living room all night. Hot Dog greets me the moment I walk into the kitchen. I bend down to let the dog give me slobbery kisses. Once he’s through, I get back up and join Gladys on the couch. I notice the nightgown waiting for me on the coffee table.

“I can just get one of my own back at the trailer. I can clean up there too if that’s more convenient.” I tell her and gesture back behind me. “I don’t want to keep you and FP from losing any sleep.”

“Not a big deal.” She grabs for her water and takes a sip. She wipes any excess away from her lips before she rises up. “Here - you look like you need some water.” Gladys heads into the kitchen so she can get me a glass of my own. From the sink, she throws out the question, “So, how did it go?” I don’t really get what she means at first, I’m so tired I can’t think all that straight. Then, I realize she’s talking about my talk with FP.

“Better than I thought.” I answer in all honesty. Gladys returns from the kitchen and hands me my water, Hot Dog following close behind. He sits in front of me as I take a well-needed gulp.

“Told you he wouldn’t blow up about it. Just needs time to process it all.” She smiles at me. “Does he know about…...your little problem too? You know, the whole demon-ex-boyfriend situation?” My somewhat good mood deflates a little. I haven’t made any mention of Hal, or my alliance with Hiram, to FP. Granted, I erased FP’s memories of Hal and my witchcraft, but I’ve only explained the latter to him. Not the whole scenario.

I set my glass down and rub my eyes. “No….not yet.” I mumble. “I don’t know if I want to tell him tonight. I’ve already cried enough as it is. I don’t want to turn your trailer into a Pool of Tears.” The comment produces a cackle out of her.

Gladys squeezes my shoulder. “It’s what makes you human. Well….half-human in your case. I mean, witches get emotional too, right? Like, don’t tell me you all melt at the sight of water. Or feelings.” I find myself giggling slightly at her joke. From all the years I’ve known the Spellmans, I don’t think I’ve seen Zelda or Hilda get overly emotional. I don’t think Ambrose has cried his eyes out whenever one of his partners has dumped him. Really, I think Sabrina is the only witch I’ve seen share as much emotion as me. Maybe it’s our half-human nature….we have the ability to feel and to express how we feel.

Hot Dog turns his head towards the door and lets out a bark. Gladys leans past me to tell her dog, “Hey! Stop hovering over the door, you weirdo.” She whistles and rubs her fingers together, signaling for him to come to her. Hot Dog waddles over and plants himself at her feet. She glances around her trailer as she smooths out his fur. “I swear, this place ain’t big enough to hold two kids, and a dog. FP and I are really trying to set some money aside so we can finally get the hell out of here. Go somewhere nicer, even if it’s just a spacious condo on the Southside.”

I lean back into the couch, crossing my legs together. I tilt my head towards Gladys, then I ask out of curiosity, “Where would you want to live? What’s the dream for you and FP?” She takes a second to think over it, staring slightly off into the distance. She lets go of Hot Dog and melts into the couch.

Gladys responds, “There’s this place on Elm Street, on the Northside. It’s right next door to Fred and his boy…..so we’d get neighbors we know. I know this is specific, so don’t laugh, but….but this place would fit so well for the four of us. And Hot Dog. It’s a good size home, all white. Got three bed-and-bath, a real backyard, spacious kitchen, a garage for us to actually park our cars and bikes. And the front door…..for some reason, I’ve always wanted to have a red door.” I could almost burst into laughter here….. A white house with a red door? But, it’s not my vision, and I promised her already I wouldn’t laugh. Although, I’m worried that she’s caught onto my silent judgement. She sighs, “I know I’m like the complete opposite of a Nuclear Stepford Housewife, so even saying this out loud sounds so extreme.”

“What? No.” I sit up a little, and I reach for her hand. “Why not want that life? You and FP work too hard to give up on something like that. How much does the place cost?”

Gladys rolls her eyes. “Alice, FP and I would never be able to afford that shit with each of us having five or six jobs. We’d be lucky if we could get the place when we collect our social security in our eighties. It would have to take one hell of a miracle for us to place a bid into buying that house.”

During this whole conversation, Hot Dog must have slipped back over to the door, because the moment Gladys finishes her last sentence, he barks again. And he keeps barking. “Hot Dog! What the….” Gladys rises from the couch all frustrated and goes over to the dog. She leads him away from the door and towards the kitchen. “What’s going on with you, boy?” At this point, I get up too. Something outside of the trailer must be agitating him. Did Sabrina come back, and did that cat come with her? Is there a Serpent bonfire happening outside? Gladys moves around me and leans against the arm of the couch. She starts to glance out the window, “You know, he gets all wigged out when the kids aren’t here. Funny thing, I think it was JB who picked him out a few years ago. She kept saying that something just felt right about bringing him home with us. So I guess it’s like…..”

Then her voice fades out. Her face goes completely neutral. So there must be something outside. “It’s like what?” I try to get her attention, but Gladys doesn’t pay me any attention. I step in and shake her shoulder. “Gladys?” For a brief moment, she brings her eyes back over to me, then she turns back.

“What the hell is Hiram Lodge doing outside your trailer?”

HIRAM. I make room for myself so I can get a look out the window. My eyes widen, my jaw drops. Outside my trailer, in the cold, dead of night, Hiram leans against the staircase, flipping something in his hand. He’s back…..he came back…… How long has he been here? How long has he been waiting for me?

I look over at Gladys and mutter, “He’s back.” Then, I bolt for the door.

Behind me, Gladys is all confused. “What do you mean? Where did he go? What did he….Alice, wait up!”

I fly down the stairs, my feet hit the gravel on sudden impact. I feel the wind push me as I run over to my trailer, over to where Hiram has been patiently waiting for me. He sees me coming over, and he pushes himself away from the staircase. He takes a couple of steps as I slow my pace and stop a couple of feet away from him. Almost out of breath, I place my hands on my knees. I look down at the ground and breathe in and out. One I get it together, I stand up straight. He gives me an odd look.

“Rough day at the diner?” I don’t get it. Then I look down. Shit, my Pop’s uniform.

I roll my eyes. I wind up panting in between phrases, “Long story…...I’ll explain later.”

He raises a hand, looking all concerned for my well being. “If you need to get cleaned up, I don’t mind waiting. I actually haven’t been waiting too long….. But, I’m afraid that we do need to talk sooner rather than later, Alice.” Well, that doesn’t sound good.

“No offense, but can’t this wait until morning?” Hiram lets out a regretful sigh, then he steps in towards me. Guess he wasn’t kidding.

“It actually is kind of urgent, which is why I came here immediately, and not back to Pembrooke. Alice, I found something in the Book.”

“Book? What book?” Gladys shows up next to me. She stares Hiram down and crosses her arms. I forgot she was following my trail out of her place. “What are you and Alice trying to find?”

Hiram looks all astonished. He glances over at me in disbelief, then he glances over at Gladys. He speaks to her, “Gladys…..surprised you’re not at the Whyte Wyrm tonight. Were you helping Alice at the diner?” His cover up isn’t going so well, and Gladys knows this. He tries to tell her, “I’m just helping Alice with…..a little project that….she needed some help with back in---”

This is getting too cringey to listen to, I can’t stand this. I wind up breaking the news to him. “Gladys knows, Hiram.” He doesn’t get my words at first, so I clarify, “About us being witches! And what we’re doing!” His eyes bulge. He stares back and forth between Gladys and me. I know witches aren’t supposed to allow mortals to have acknowledgement of their craft, but Gladys has done a good job of keeping the secret. And she helped me find an outfit to wear so I could arrange this deal with Hiram in the first place.

He turns to her, growing bitter. Gladys replies, “To be fair, I figured it out by myself for the most part. Alice, over here, just filled me in on minor details. And FP is aware too. So, yeah…..whatever you two got going on with this demon you’re trying to find…..you might as well throw FP and me into the loop.”

Hiram lets out an angry laugh. “Excuse me….” He begins to act all defensive, “Do you realize the danger you are putting all of us in? If word gets back to any members of the Church of Night that Alice and I had ANY mortals aid in our case---”

Gladys stops him by stepping out in front of him. She lifts up her wrist and moves back her bands. She gives him a good, long look at the Ouroboros tattoo sitting on her wrist. “This make me sound like another ordinary mortal to you?” He’s dumbfounded, and now he’s amused. Does Hiram know about the Uktena? He watches in silence as Gladys lowers her wrist. A small grin appears on his face.

“Forgive me, Madame Jones.” his tone shifts significantly, “I didn’t realize I was speaking with a member of the Uktena Coven.”

“ALLY of the Uktena Coven.” Gladys confirms with him. She steps back to rejoin my side and shoots me a confident smirk. She turns back to Hiram, “So….am I qualified now to be included on whatever intel you just got?” 

Hiram sighs, “I suppose so. But….we might need to move this conversation inside, ladies. As much as I trust your fellow Serpent friends not to say a word…...I can’t risk the possibility of someone else laying an eye on this….” This? What does he mean by…. Before I have the chance to ask the question, Hiram goes over to his satchel rest up against the staircase. He flips it open and starts to rifle through its contents. I don’t know what he could possibly want to have hidden from another mortal, unless it’s something so confidential with the Church----

Wait. Did he…..but how would he…..Unholy shit. The next thing I know, Hiram pulls out the one item I thought I’d never lay eyes upon. Something I’d believe would never leave the town lines of Greendale, or beyond the tight watch of the Church of Night. He doesn’t show the title to Gladys, but from the binding, and from what I can make out of the lettering, I can tell right away that Hiram is holding onto the Book of the Beast. 

My jaw could drop to the grass. My eyes go big. He’s about to turn to me, to speak, but I have to hurry over to him. “Oh no….” I grab him by the arm, unable to speak proper English. “You…..You…..” I can’t let my emotions explode out here. I could wake the whole trailer park. Now that would be a sight to see, to have Hiram and I wipe out all the Serpents’ memories. But I have to move fast. So, while grabbing onto Hiram’s arm like a eagle’s talons, I pull him up into my trailer, flicking the door open with some telekinesis. I bring him over to the kitchen and rotate his body to face me. The book is still in his arms when I chastise him in a harsh whisper, “YOU STOLE THE BOOK OF THE BEAST?”

“I did not steal anything.” He tries to make up an excuse, backing up towards the table. “I am simply borrowing it for research purposes.”

I cross my arms at him and roll my eyes. “Research purposes? Really? The Church of Night, and Father Blackwood of all witches, let you walk out the door with that little novel in your hands?”

Hiram knows that I’m seeing into him at this point. So, he just gives up the gig and sighs. “Let’s just say I have acquaintances within the Church who have allowed me to…..examine its contents for a night. Or two, depending on how long it takes to return the Book.” I want to stay pissed, but….. Okay, I have to admit it. I’m a little impressed that Hiram Lodge practically stole a sacred text, just for our mission. I’d never have labeled him a thief, or even a rebel, but I guess my opinion of him really is changing after all. In a way, Hiram’s kind of become a little Bilbo Baggins for the two of us.

Now I’m curious to see if he managed to score anything related to witches residing in Riverdale during the Reaper era. I walk over to him and help him set the Book down on the table. Gladys joins us and stands on the other side of Hiram as he flips open the Book. I begin my inquiring, “So, what was so crucial that you needed to show us? Did you find anyone from Riverdale in here?” Hiram looks up at me, his face remaining neutral. This might not be good, but I don't get much of a confirmation because he keeps flipping the pages. Gladys gives me a funny look, so I give her a Spark Notes version of what we’re trying to look for in regards to Hal. I glance down at where Hiram continues to go through this book. We’re well past signatures from the 1960s, when the Reaper made his killings. Now we’re flying through the 70s, the 80s….. What? This is too far to be in connection to the Reaper. What did Hiram find? Is it anything related to us? Hell, is it related to me? To Sabrina…..

Sabrina. I almost forgot her birthday. She was supposed to sign in here back on October 31st. Did Hiram find something about her, or her family? Finally, Hiram stops his flipping, he holds his hand over a spread of two pages. The dates range from December 2000 to November 2001. Sabrina would have been born during this time…..

“Unfortunately, Alice,” Hiram starts, “I couldn’t find anything in relation to what we’re doing. But….. I did go over the status of Sabrina’s arrangement with the Council today, just giving them small updates. So, I got a little curious, since we’re still awaiting to hear a date for her trial. I know she never signed her name in the Book this past month……” I’m aware of that. So, why is he having us look at this date range? I’m still trying to understand the reason when Gladys moves her head in. She blinks for a couple of seconds, then she turns to Hiram.

“You said she didn’t sign, right?” He nods. She points down to the right side of the Book. “Then, why the hell is her name on this page?”

HER NAME? I look down to where Gladys is pointing, and….. I can’t believe my eyes. There, printed in black ink, dated just four days into November, is Sabrina’s name. So she has been signed over to the Path of Night…. None of this makes sense. This was dated back in 2001! How could have Sabrina been old enough to pen in her name and sell her soul to the Dark Lord? I try to think of all the possibilities….. Maybe if Sabrina decided recently that she did want to and traveled back in time, if her Aunts did it out of precaution, if Edward Spellman signed her over so he could-----

Sabrina is half-human, like me. Her mother was human. Witches and mortals are not allowed to marry. Hiram got away with it because Hermione was infertile. Then…..the only way Edward could marry Diana was…..was if….

Hiram faces me in full remorse. “That’s Edward’s handwriting. I think he sold her over to the Dark Lord so he could stay with Diana. So, the fact that Sabrina refused her contract…..one that has not been made known to her…..it’s made the Dark Lord angry.”

“That’s why she’s going on trial.” I mutter. “And she doesn’t even know about this.” I don’t even know what to say afterwards. My heart is shattering. Sabrina has no clue that this arrangement existed, and now she might not have a choice when it comes to choosing her family’s destiny or her own freedom. And she’s happily residing in Riverdale awaiting her fate without a clue. Did Zelda or Hilda know about any of this? Wouldn’t it have been wise for the two of them, or even Ambrose, to cue her in? To simply say Hey Sabrina, your dad kind of signed your name over as a baby so he and your mom could have you, so can you please just follow through with this? I could spit fire at both Spellman Sisters. I could throw my fists at Father Blackwood and the rest of the Council. I could go all Southside Serpents on everyone’s asses in Greendale, or hell, Gladys or FP could. A slow-burning rage boils in me, my fists curl. The anger that Hal wanted me to present, to use as an aid for my witchcraft, seeps into my brain.

To my side, Gladys turns to Hiram, “So, what? The girl can’t just argue and say she was left out of the loop?”

“She’d had to get one heaven of a lawyer, Miss Jones. Even then, if Sabrina has any chance of avoiding a future down the Path of Night, she’s going to need a powerful excuse to free her.” The two continue to converse back and forth about what to do. Gladys throws out some lawyers’ names, Hiram argues that they have to be witch-lawyers, or anyone that knows the witch laws that can step in and help win the case. I want to jump in on the conversation as well. I mean, I’m the one looking after Sabrina in this town. But I’m getting caught up in my train of thoughts. I don’t have any idea as to how I’m going to break the news to her. Will she get angry with me, will she accuse me of lying to her? Will it make her skip town and never come back…..the same way I did…..

The tapping into my buried emotions sparks a new voice in my brain. It’s scratchy yet light, it almost sounds like….. I come to realize that the voice is not in my head, it’s coming from the Book.  ** _You weren’t meant to run_ ** , it starts whispering at me,  ** _you were supposed to be great. You were meant to be great with me._ ** A wind picks up in my trailer, causing the Book to flip the pages backwards. The pages are now in the mid 1980s. All while I was about to go into high school, all before Hal.  ** _You chose to leave me….. _ ** The Book wants me to find something in here. It wants me to find the source of this voice. So, I begin to go through, going past 1987, 1988….. I scan through the names of all that signed over. None of them scream out to me…..except for one that I keep seeing in Hiram’s books. Whoever Jaime Luna is, the name appears in this book too, somewhere in 1991. But then, Jaime Luna is not the reason this Book wants me to follow the voice.  ** _You chose to waste your magic. _ ** I go past 1991, entering into 1992. March, April, May, where am I supposed to look?  ** _You chose to become weak. But not anymore….. _ ** I scroll down through August and September. I’m in the middle of October, and the voice is getting louder.  ** _You brought me life. And now, I choose to bring you life in return. To bring you power._ ** I’m heading towards Halloween, starting in November. The voice is rising to its highest that my head can handle.  ** _Now, we will never part. You may not be bound to the Dark Lord, but you are bound to me._ **

My finger freezes towards the bottom of the right page. It’s signed the day after Hal killed Darryl, when I began to fear what I released from the Conway House. And the name….. The name…..

“Alice?” Gladys comes over to my left. She places a hand on my shoulder. “Alice…..what…..” She takes a look at where I hover my finger. By this point, Hiram stands behind me on my right. I can’t read their expressions, I’m too….. I…..

“Oh Beelzebub.” I hear Hiram say. But I can’t respond. I can’t move. I don’t know if I have the ability to scream or to cry. 

On that line, dated the day following Darryl, in Hal’s handwriting, lies one name. 

** _Alice Cooper_ **

XXXXXXXX

** _End of Chapter Nine_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay....on a scale from 1 to #IMSHOOKETH, how do we feel about the end of this chapter?
> 
> Feel free to give feedback and share this story with others!


	11. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY HI HELLO! I'M BACK WITH A NEW CHAPTER! So sorry for the incredibly long hiatus, but I've started a new job which is very exciting! I'll still try to update when I get a chance, but for now, enjoy the new update!
> 
> Heads up, this chapter does contain material related to suicidal thoughts and some minor violence, so please skip over if you need to, or please let me know if you need to talk. Thank you!

*****WARNING this chapter contains material related to suicidal thoughts and contemplation. If this makes you uncomfortable, skip to the end of the chapter or feel free to not continue. If you or an acquaintance is dealing with the material, please reach out to someone or message me. Thank you, and happy reading.*****

**ALICE**

_ I stood outside the trailer just to get some fresh air. The sex took the wind out of me, but I enjoyed it. I heavily contemplated on grabbing a cigarette, but I was in the middle of quitting them. I stared out to where Hiram had ran away merely hours ago, I felt proud of myself. I managed to scare away one person who had plans to ruin my life, and in that moment, I also had finally lost my virginity. I mean, I knew it was odd that I was still a virgin and people labeled me as a slut. But now, I allowed myself to have that moment of pride. I went all the way with someone…..well, not exactly a human but something that had human characteristics. _

_ I didn’t hear Hal come outside, I didn’t know he was there until he wrapped his arms around me. I leaned back into him and giggled as he planted a tender kiss on my neck. “Wasn’t too rough on you, was I?” he purred into my ear. I was a fool for falling for any of this seduction, but back then, I didn’t know better. I simply rotated to face him and shook my head. _

_ “You like this with other witches?” I teased him. He didn’t understand my joke at first. I wound up laughing and had to tell him otherwise. “I’m kidding! You’re only bound to me, as far as I know. I mean…..do you have bonds with others?” I only asked because I had no clue at the time, and the books I read didn’t explain much about bonds with familiars.  _

_ Hal tightened his grip on me and pulled me in more to him. “No, baby, it’s just you. And only you.” I grinned from ear to ear, I really was so naive. I reached my fingers up to his chin, I allowed him to bring his lips to mine. A spark of energy rolled through me, though I had no clue what it meant, whether it was dark magic or just regular tingles. I freed myself from the kiss and turned around to face the woods again. The scene was so wide and vast at night, back then the Southside wasn’t so polluted with as lost-soul teenagers or bad influences from modern social media. It was all so peaceful at night, and then I no longer had to spend those nights alone. _

_ Hal brought his mouth to my ear so he could whisper, “One day, this could belong to us. No more bad classmates, or controlling family members. It can just be you and me.” I really did take his word for it long before I realized what he really was, what he could do to those around me. But, I didn’t care that night. I got a kick out of it when he continued, “We don’t need anyone else, Alice. I belong to you…..and you belong to me.” _

** _You belong to me._ ** The words echo in my head, they blend with that voice from the Book. But I can’t shut it out. I can’t erase what I just saw, what I have come to discover. He put my name in the Book of the Beast. He signed my name, under the surname he used, and bound me to him. It explains the nose bleeds. The visions. The sickness to the point of near death. I never could unbound myself from him because he arranged it to be that way. And now…..I’m trapped. I won’t be free until he’s dead, or until I’m dead.

My head aches, my throat is sore, my feet take charge as I sprint through the woods beyond the trailer park. I had to leave my trailer, I didn’t have the courage to look Gladys or Hiram in the eyes before I bolted. I can’t calm down, I’m crying so heavily as I stumble my way through these trees. And my head just won’t turn off.  _ HE PUT MY NAME IN THE BOOK HE PUT MY NAME IN THE BOOK I HAVE NO FREEDOM I’LL NEVER BE FREE _

I don’t know how to process it all in a rational manner. I don’t know where to go or what to do, I don’t know how to confront Sabrina about all of this mess. Her name is in there along with mine, we both are stuck in contracts that we aren’t in control of. But what if she’ll get angry with me? What if she runs off, and I never get to tell her about Hal, or my real reasons for winding up in Greendale, or why I get so sick every time I----

It’s so dark out, where am I going? Why haven’t I stopped running, why can’t I stop crying, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I run into a tree nearing the edge of some cliff in the woods. It’s not a steep cliff, it doesn’t go down super far, but it’s enough to…. NO. DON’T YOU DARE. THAT IS NOT THE ANSWER, the remaining rational portion of my brain tries to argue with my impulsive side. I know I shouldn’t jump, I have too many obligations. Too many burned bridges to mend. A former familiar on the loose that will destroy this town if I don’t stop him. But…..but what if it’s already too late? What good will me jumping in bring to Riverdale besides more collateral damage? I already instigated the death of too many people in this town, and now more are dead because I didn’t stop Hal sooner. I’ve been too afraid to say anything, to fix my own mistakes…..I am a coward. And I’m a liar. All I’ve done is lead Sabrina into danger, and now I might not be able to prevent Hal from finding her and taking advantage of her witchcraft. It’s all my fault.

The tree shakes in my grip. All the trees around me shake intensely, and the ground below me rumbles, it all coincides with my building emotion. And at this point, I don’t care how far my magic goes. I don’t care if I collapse or if the whole forest burns down. I’ve already caused enough damage to those around me, so what’s the damn point anymore. I choke out a sob, then another, then I release what I’ve had bottled up inside me. The anger, the sadness, the guilt, the depression, and the fear. All of those things I’ve kept locked away since my days in Greendale explodes out of me in one scream. Stone walls crack far out into the woods. The compact soil below me splits in half. Rooted trees fall to the earth. This whole forest could crumble, it could implode into the earth, it could disappear. I don’t care anymore, I’m tired of hiding all of these emotions. I’m done.

My voice eventually gives out. I feel woozy and wobbly. Blood trickles down my nose, out of my ears, it comes out in the form of tears. I don’t bother to wipe any of it away this time. I stare down this miniature cliff, contemplating whether or not to….  _ Yes, no, yes, what the hell are you thinking, what about Sabrina, it doesn’t matter she may not forgive me, what about Hiram, he could look after her, and FP and Gladys, I’ve damaged them enough, and Jellybean…... what about Jellybean, wouldn’t she be heartbroken? SHUT UP Think about her, and Sabrina, and everyone else…..SHUT UP you don’t want to see them get hurt by Hal, do you? DO YOU, SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP _

“Alice? Alice, where are you? Are you out here?” My brain goes quiet. My feet come dangerously close to slipping off this cliff. I cling onto the tree, rotating my head in careful motion towards the direction of whoever is calling out my name. I can’t see who it is right away in the dark, but the voice….. Hiram emerges into a spot where the moon shines on the ground. He sees me in my trapped place, with my troubled expression. Can he tell that I was so close to…..that I was heavily considering….. It’s embarrassing to look him in the eye. It’s embarrassing he has to see me like this, so broken and unable to calm down. He holds a hand up and takes a cautious step towards me. “Alice….” his voices croaks. He has to brace himself against a tree to keep himself from slipping. He’s smart to hold on, as for me….

“Go back.” I tell him. “Don’t…..don’t waste your time with me. Just…..just tell FP and Gladys I’m sorry. And…..tell Sabrina---”

Hiram rotates his hand out to me. His eyes do all the pleading, he doesn’t have to voice anything. I look him up and down, then I twist my head to face the wooded area behind me. The scene is calming and quiet. Have the woods always been like this? The more I keep my attention on what’s out there, the more the fighting in my head ceases. Everything is quiet, I can think clearly now, I can rationalize without all the nerves. Daisies and candles. Tears still flow but they’re not as heavy anymore. What I did to calm FP down, what I always do to help Sabrina, I have to do it for myself now. But if I can’t……if I’m not able to, and whatever I just worked myself up with takes over….

Hiram is still waiting for me. His hand still reaches out to me. I don’t want to frighten him this way. No….I don’t want to leave anyone like this. What would he tell Sabrina and everyone else? What was I thinking? I’ve spent too much of my life staying isolated, not wanting anyone to get involved in my nightmare of a life. I never realized that there were good people, that there was a helping hand to guide me to the light at the end of the tunnel. The only person I was hurting was myself.

With baby steps, I back away from the edge of this cliff and grip on tight to this trunk. I look down at the ground, it’s still split from when I lost my cool. It’ll have to be one hell of a leap to reach Hiram and get myself safely to the other side.  _ Daisies and candles, Alice. Breathe. _ I release one arm from the trunk, then the other, resting my back against it. Hiram steps out a little so his hand can extend out to me at a reachable distance. Using my foot to brace up against the trunk, I move forward at a slow pace. I need to be smart about this, and if needed, I can use witchcraft as a safety net. I blink back tears…. No, I can’t break down now.  _ Get to the other side, get back to civilization before you have another meltdown. Go back, this isn’t the place to die. _ Chuck Clayton said that to me…..now it makes sense. I don’t want to die…..I won’t let Hal win.

I lean forward and reach for Hiram’s hand. He takes a firm hold, then he brings forth his other arm to hover near me. Inhale, exhale…..I jump. My shoes smack against the ground as I practically body-slam into Hiram. I swear it feels like I rolled my ankle, but I don’t have a jolt of pain run through me. Although, the adrenaline of leaping over that crack, the built up emotions that led me to break down, it all causes me to breathe heavily. My heart pounds in my chest, my wet eyes close against his shoulder. Hiram stumbles back to get us away from our position. He lifts my chin. “You’re alright, Alice. You’re alright.” he soothes me. I can see him getting teary as well as he helps to lift me back to my feet. I feel so damn weak right now, my head gets all dizzy again. I’m not crying as much, but my ears and nose have that damp feeling again…..

“Alice?” Hiram holds onto one side of my face. “Alice…..hang on.” My eyelids droop as he guides us over to a fallen tree. My knees are on the verge of giving out, my heartbeat speeds up and slows down all at once. My feet lose all function, I feel like a dummy in his arms. Hiram carefully rests me down against this trunk, my legs sprawl out on the ground. My head wobbles in his hold, and whatever blood-like substance is coming out of me won’t stop flowing. Is this how I die? Is this how Hal wins?

My eyes struggle to stay open as I make a weak attempt at looking up at Hiram. He holds onto my face with both hands now, his eyes are all ablaze in fear. “No….no, Alice, stay with me! ALICE!” Other parts of my body begin to slow…..to shut down. I lose all feeling in my legs, my arms are like lead. My heartbeat slows, my brain could blow up. So this is it….

Hiram lifts my head, causing most of my upper body to lift up from the trunk. He glances down at me as his thumb strokes my cheek. His mouth hangs a bit, then he says, “Do you trust me?” I’m not able to respond, I can’t form a sentence. And I would nod or shake my head if I had the ability, but I’m practically in a vegetable state. All I can do is blink, once, then twice. I guess that signals something to him, because he secures his hold on my head. I feel his fingers gently curl into my hair, his thumbs continue stroking the sides of my face. What could he possibly do that would get me out of this state? To keep me from….

Hiram shuts his eyes and brings our foreheads to touch. A chorus of string instruments fills my ears…..this sounds familiar. Underneath the symphony, Hiram mutters to himself in Spanish. Just as he continues this pattern, and the music swells and fades, the lead feeling in my arms and my legs disappears. I can curl my fingers again, my feet shift slowly. He’s using a spell to treat me. To bring life back to my body. The uncomfortable bleeding from my nose, ears, and eyes slowly dries up. With my eyes closed, images of different shades of blue shift and turn along with the music. The more I focus on the melody…..it sounds like  _ Adagio in G Minor _ . The last part of this song comes in, Hiram goes on with his spell. My body can finally move again, my head clears up. I don’t feel sick….at least not at the level I was earlier. When the song dies out, Hiram stops his muttering. He releases his forehead from mine, his eyes open as he releases his hold on my head. My eyes flutter open as well. I can still see some blue as I push myself up and look around. My arms jitter a bit, I’m not sure if it’s from the cold or from…..

I look up at him, my eyes wide and my throat dry. “What the actual flying fuck did you just do to me?”

Hiram rests back on his heels, dropping his hands onto his knees. “I like to call it “Blue”. I don’t really know how else to describe it, I…..it’s something I’ve always had the ability to do. I only know that it works, it calms and it…..I’ve used it on Veronica so many times, it felt right to do it now.” He pauses to look around at the night sky. The moonlight glimmers on his hair.

He brings his attention back down to me. “How do you feel?” I bring my knees into my chest, still having trouble to process what happened and how. All I know is that Hiram helped me. He kept me from getting more sick. How would I begin to thank him now?

My head feels so light and airy now, I can feel the air going into my eyes. I shrug my shoulders at him, “Better? I…..” I have to stop because I really don’t know how else to respond. I forgot how cold it was outside, I start shivering. Of course, I don’t have a jacket on me. I just ran out of my trailer, I let the panic take over. Is Gladys still there waiting for us to come back? Did she go back to check on FP and her kids? Has……has Sabrina come back? Is she wondering where I am?

Hiram reaches for my arm. “You think you’re ready to go back?” Thinking about everyone back in the trailer, the Joneses, the kids, it makes me all emotional again. With misty eyes, I sniffle and nod. At this point, I want to go back. I don’t want to think about Hal anymore tonight, I don’t want to fear over FP’s wellbeing, or Sabrina’s safety. I want to clean up, I want some sleep. I have to go slow when I push myself up. Hiram supports me on the rest of the way up, back onto my own two feet. My hands rest on top of his shoulders, my forearms go against his upper body. He keeps a good hold around my waist as he takes my hand. Then, we head out of the woods, back to the trailer park.

XXXXXXXX

Little bits of sunlight peak through the window above me as I come out of my sleep. It’s one of the few times since coming here that I’ve woken up all calm, my head clear for the most part. I slide up so I can sit upright against my pillows, my hands still gripping onto the sheets. It’s a bit chilly in the room, but luckily the turtleneck sweater I threw on after my shower does a good job of keeping me warm. I would have gone with something lighter last night, but honestly, I was exhausted just cleaning myself up after returning with Hiram. I grabbed what I saw first: this sweater, a pair of black leggings, and fuzzy socks. I completely crashed out, not going over to check on the Joneses, not even to send Hiram on his way back to Pembrooke, or even back to Greendale to return the Book.

My hearing finally kicks in. There’s noise in the kitchen. Now that my other senses are warming up, the trailer smells like eggs. And warm toast. Is Sabrina making herself some breakfast out there? Did she come back? With my curiosity peaking, I throw the sheets off and climb out of bed. I creep over to the door and rest my ear against it. The noise from the kitchen, it doesn’t like a teenage girl, or like the Joneses. It sounds like Hiram, and….I think I hear cawing.

The door creaks open, I’m greeted by sunlight and an aromatic blend of breakfast food and coffee. Hiram is at the stove top with a kitchen towel over his shoulder. He’s shoveling something around….. Wait. Is he cooking? You’re telling me…..that Hiram Lodge knows how to make a meal? I move around so I can get a better view at whatever he’s decided to make. He has fried eggs packed on top of a piece of toast…..well two. There’s one set for each of us. Edgar is perched near the toaster, flapping his wings and waiting for his caretaker to pay attention to him. The raven sees me off to the side and squawks. Hiram goes to scold Edgar for making too much noise, I guess to not wake me up. Then, he sees me, and his expression lightens.

“You’re up.” He greets me with a smile. “Edgar and I didn’t wake you, did we?”

I wrap my arms around myself and wander over to him. “No….you’re fine.” I stare down at the counter, he has French Press coffee waiting to be poured into two mugs. I got to say, I’m really impressed right now. Since when did Hiram have any education in culinary skills? I thought the only tasks he’d ever do is dictate to personal chefs and waiters what he wants. Hiram holds a finger up, returning back to the frying pan. He has Edgar shove two plates close to the stove top, then he scoops the eggs and toast onto each plate. Meanwhile, I pour myself some coffee from the French Press. There’s a small pile of eggs leftover in the pan, has he turned off the stove? Hiram finishes his task then moves the pan off the stove.

Part of me wants to go all Mom-Mode and nag him with safety reminders. But, I have to remind myself that he had the generosity to even make me breakfast without asking. Luckily, he flips the switch to the stove off, so I can lay my worries to rest. He takes a spare fork from the drawer and scoops out the small egg pile from the pan. “I haven’t used a small-scale kitchen in a long time, I don’t think since my last vacation with Veronica. So….” Hovering his free hand underneath the forkful, he holds out the little bit of food to me. “You brave enough to taste test? You don’t have to hold back on being harsh.”

I take the fork and bring the eggs into my mouth. I will admit, I was extremely concerned at first, just because I’ve never seen this man cook a day in his life, nor have I heard stories of him cooking. I half expect the eggs to be too runny, or too overcooked. I expect the flavor to be off, or to taste like the bottom of the pan. But….. Wow. The flavor surrounds the inside of my mouth, the eggs are fluffy and easy to chew. I can taste the little bit of heavy cream and butter with salt and pepper in this biteful. And…..is that chili powder mixed in? It has a nice subtle kick to it. I have to cover my mouth so I can finish this bite without looking disgusting. But, I mean, these eggs are surprisingly scrumptious, and palatable! Once I swallow, I lower my hand and I beam at him. I give him a thumbs up, and he glows…..in fact, he’s blushing.

“Okay, good. I won’t lie, I was kind of mentally preparing for you to go all Gordon Ramsey on me.” he teases. I watch as Hiram goes back over to the plates of food. He picks them up and starts to bring them over to the kitchen table. He turns to Edgar, gesturing to the fridge, “ _ ¿Puedes encontrar crema y azucar? _ ” I watch the raven struggle to get the door open before morphing into a figure that can rummage through my items. I go to bring my coffee over to the table when I look out at the living room. Hiram’s coat is scrunched up at one end of the couch, and his bag lays against the coffee table.

“You slept on the couch?” I turn to him.

He shrugs, then he goes around me to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Not the worst place I’ve slept. I had every intention on returning to Pembrooke once you settled in for the night……” He holds the mug in his hands, his gaze going distant. “I got worried, though. I thought something would happen to you again, so….. I didn’t realize I fell asleep here until well after 2 am. I didn’t mean to frighten you….”

“You didn’t.” I tell him. Then, I take my place on the table, this breakfast really does smell good. I wave for him to come join me so I don’t wind up being rude and eating without him there. I dig into the thing with my fork and shove the biteful into my mouth. Unholy shit. The flavors are dancing in my mouth. The softness of the egg blends well with the crunch of the toasted bread. The spices tickle my tongue and soothe my throat.

“Did it pass the test?” Hiram chuckles at my exaggeration. I nod before taking more into my fork. He’s a bit more formal with his cutting and eating of this egg-toast combination. By this point, Edgar brings cream and sugar for the coffee over to the table, taking back his raven form. He flies up to the window above us and finds enjoyment in examining the trailer park.

“Who taught you how to make this?” I ask after swallowing another bite.

Hiram sips on some coffee to help the food go down. “The internet?” He confesses with a sheepish expression, I almost choke on my eggs in attempt to suppress a giggle. He sets down his fork, “Only partially. I saw one of my family’s chefs make it as a child. Saw my mother do it a couple of times too. She actually taught me to do some things in the kitchen whenever we didn’t have the chefs around. It didn’t please my father much to have me learn these skills, he would have rather had others waiting on us. But he was always like that…..” He goes quiet, taking another sip of coffee. Was it bad for me to spark this conversation? All the times he’s mentioned his mother, he gets this way, all…..quiet. He told me he cared for her dearly, but what about his father? How did the rest of his family react to him marrying Hermione? Wanting to go to Riverdale High and not the Academy?

He grabs his knife to cut more into this meal as he talks to me. “My mother was always so self-reliant. She preferred to do things for herself, like doing her own laundry or making her own meals. I assume it stemmed from her time in this town….. My father would get so irked. He didn’t want me to follow her ways of life….. He’d always tell me growing up, “ _ Mijo _ , we are a family of rules, traditions. We don’t rebel.” It was the one constant bit of advice he gave to me.” He twists the fork in his hands, his lips forming a straight line. He looks up, “Wasn’t too thrilled with me wanting to further my education at a mortal school, in the town where my mother grew up. Flipped his lid when he learned I’d be taking Hermione’s hand in marriage. He only calmed down when I confessed that she wouldn’t have the ability to produce any  _ nietos _ .” He sets down his silverware with a sigh. His tone of voice shifts, “Even then….he called me a disappointment to the Lodge Family. I hadn’t seen him, or heard him, be this angry with me since……since my Dark Baptism.”

So Hiram really did grow up rebellious, but for what? For his mother? For his own well-being? Is his commitment to the Church to make up for his actions growing up? To make up for…..now that he mentions his Baptism, I’m keen to learn the truth.

“You said your mother wasn’t there, right?”

“She passed away before I baptized.” He confirms with me as he swirls his coffee around in gentle circles. “I’d never been so unhappy in my life. I loved her, and the only reason I kept myself from breaking the rules more was for her. My father was a bit of a dictator, not just with Lodge Industries, but with the whole family. He wanted to groom me to take over the business, to mature into a trustworthy ally of the Council. But I…..I felt so constrained around him. I could never make my own choices, make my own rules…..” He glances down briefly at his plate, there’s still so much of his breakfast left. I’ve practically wolfed down a good majority of my meal, I feel guilty. I force myself to slow down my eating so I can pay better attention to his story.

Hiram brings his eyes up to mine. He takes a deep breath, then he tells me, “There’s a tradition in my family, that when a Lodge baptizes and takes the Path of Night……that member signs the family’s name into the Book with whatever they chose as their Baptized name. When it came time for me to sign my name…..I didn’t sign myself as Hiram Lodge. I didn’t even sign Lodge into that Book…….I chose another name to put in. A new name for myself, that would separate me…..from the others.” I saw so many names in that Book last night, I don’t think I remember seeing Lodge listed anywhere. What would have Hiram chosen that could distinguish himself as an individual, as someone more than just a Lodge? What name would have angered the family so gravely----

The name in Hiram’s books. The one name I briefly saw before finding my baptized name.

“My mother’s maiden name was Luna, and she gave it up when she married my father. A lot of my love for reading stems from her…..and, one of the first things she had me read was poetry. And there was this poet….Jaime Sabines, that she adored. So, when I baptized, I chose a name that would honor her. To reclaim a life she lost, and to pay tribute to what she loved. Hence….”

“Jaime Luna.” I finish his thought. He gives me a small nod. I’m floored, in fact…..as the kids would say nowadays, I’m shook. So Jaime Luna isn’t a random witch Hiram collected those books from to build his shelves. He and Jaime are the same person. The handwriting in the books looked so similar to his, I should have picked up on it.

He huffs. “Because of my experience, I guess it allowed me to relate to Miss Spellman’s situation. We both come from big family names, so causing their reputations to be put on the line is……I will admit, it’s daunting. I was lucky that I was only scolded for my behavior. Sabrina is going on trial, and who knows how the Sisters and Ambrose are holding up currently. Maybe that’s why I offered to look after Sabrina during her time away.”

I have no words, I’ve never seen this side of Hiram before. When he came to see me at Pop’s, I was ready to turn him away, to continue to see him as the arrogant boy I knew in high school. But the more that I have truly gotten to know him, to see how he lives, the more I realize that the persona he developed in high school was a cover. The same way I hid under my Serpent jacket and my cold sarcasm. He’s grown to maintain peace between business clients and the Church, to raise a child that’s not of his blood……to help me.

“Did I throw that off then?” I ask out of the blue. His face falls slightly. I didn’t mean to come off rude, I only wanted to…..well, I don’t know what I’m looking for out of this. Am I just looking for someone to reassure that I’m not causing trouble here? That my efforts of looking after Sabrina are not a waste of time? Speaking of…..why hasn’t Sabrina come back yet? Did she stay with FP and Gladys? With Veronica? Wouldn’t she have texted me by now? I hope she’s okay, I hope she hasn’t gotten herself into trouble, especially with that cat…..

His eyes get all big on me. He looks like he wants to reach for my hand, or do something along that line. But he keeps his hand near my fingers, just in case. He blinks, then speaks. “I’ll confess…..I expected to only have Sabrina arrive. I prepared to keep her under watch and have plans to step in for safety purposes. I…..I guess I wasn’t prepared for you to come as well.” He stares down at my hand, and…..he grins. It’s soft and pretty subtle, but it still makes me pay attention. He continues, “But I’m glad you came with her. And I don’t regret joining you on this hunt. I understand now, why……” He stops again. His eyes show a hidden…..guilt? Sorrow?  _ Why _ what? What did he come to understand? What is it about me that makes him want to rebel?

“Have you told the Council about…..us?” I unintentionally come off monotone. He still has that sad, beaten-dog look to him. I take it he hasn’t said a word to them. Is that a good thing, though? I swallow a lump in my throat, “Would you care if they found out what we were doing?”

Hiram leans back in his chair, his face goes neutral, his hand still lingers near mine. I notice how his gaze wanders off to the side of me, like he just confessed to a crime. Like he’s absolutely petrified. I can see that scared boy in him, the one I terrified along with something I thought would help me. I see the boy who hated his family and couldn’t get out. I see a young man who lost his wife, who was left to care for a young girl, who just wanted something……an excuse, a reason, to find those days where he could rebel all over again. That bright boy had to grow up, and now, he’s reclaiming that identity for himself. For Veronica. For……

He looks back at me, his eyes misting up. “I’d say the Church of Night can kiss my ass.”

Hearing the words come out of his mouth stuns me. It makes me…..I don’t know. I don’t have much time to react, because the next thing I know, Hiram gets up from his seat, then immediately drops to one knee. My mouth opens, my eyes go wide. He reaches for my hand and takes it into his own. He stares up at me, growing more confident in his stance. “I made a promise to help you, to provide you guidance…..but I did it believing my contributions would bring benefits to the Church of Night. Looking back on it, I recognize now that the situation doesn’t concern them…..they have no say in any of this. I regret not revealing myself to you in high school, to provide you aid sooner. I hid in the shadows when you were alone……Hal made you believe you were alone. But you aren’t, not right now. We aren’t those kids anymore, and I will do what it takes to atone whatever wrongs I did to you. I will work to be a better father, a better mentor, a better friend. If that means my reputation with the Witches Council is tarnished, so be it. Because, from now until that thing you once called a familiar is beyond the ninth circle of Hell, I no longer pledge fealty to the Council, or any other member of the Church……” He takes a moment to pause. He blinks a couple of times and allows himself the chance to catch his breath. His eyes start to get red, and wet. With a shaky voice, he says, “I pledge my fealty…..to you, Alice Suzanna Smith. If you’ll allow me.”

My lips tremble. My arms shake. I could break down crying from the motions he made, the words he said. He’s not doing any of this for the witches back at home…..he’s doing this for me. For Sabrina. And for his daughter. He’s doing it for himself. It’s a side of Hiram that I never saw until now. It’s a side that’s raw and vulnerable, that wants to do the right thing and not for the sake of reputation. In high school, everyone, including myself, questioned who Hiram really was, he gave off more than one persona. There was the Gatsby version of him, the scared little boy version I made appear, and there was the hidden side we all were curious to discover. The one that made everyone in town question the Lodges. Now…..I don’t see those sides. I don’t see a side at all. I see the real Hiram Lodge.

I slide off my seat and meet him on the ground, on my own knees. I bring my hands up to his face and just look at him. The face I saw for the first time in a long time at that soccer game has grown softer. It has lost the persona it tried to hide under. It’s the one that comforted me at the Conway House, the one that kept me from doing something I would regret last night. At this point, I’m producing tears and I’m on the brink of sobbing. And I don’t really care if he sees, because…..well, shit, he’s crying too. This is the most vulnerable we’ve been with each other. And this is what brings us closer. This signifies that we fight Hal, together.

I wrap my arms around Hiram and just hold onto him. He hesitates for a second then he returns the gesture, curling his fingers into my hair and relaxing into me. I weep into his shoulder, not because I’m upset, or scared, or experiencing any negative emotions. I weep because….. FP and Hiram are both right. Hal manipulated me by isolating me, by making me feel alone. I thought I was lost…..when really I have the help I need right in front of me. I have friends, I have help, and…..I have hope.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

It’s cold in the hospital waiting area. I watch the sunlight pour into the windows, the morning glow brightening the room. V and I had intentions of going back to Pembrooke, or even of me going back to the trailers, after getting Moose and Midge to the hospital. We didn’t anticipate on sleeping here in the waiting area last night. But what if that strange attacker came back? What if he shot and scratched at the workers here, just so he could get his hands on his targets from the night before? And…...why did I recognize those eyes?

I didn’t sleep well, those eyes still taunted me. Also, I worried that Ali would be wondering of my whereabouts. I made an effort to reach out and contact her, only to realize last minute that my phone had died, and I had no charger. So, using V’s phone, I sent texts to her father, explaining the whole situation. Well, I feel like I rambled too much in that text string. My fingers jittered, my head whirled, I couldn’t relay my point in one or two sentences. It was like I had to write a novel to defend myself. To defend myself…. Of course, I thought about my trial, and that paralyzing uncertainty kept me up too. I hate having this thought reoccur in my brain. I hate that whatever anger and sadness I have against Aunties for not writing to me, or nostalgia for the days back at Baxter, become hyper fixations the more I circle back to them. I think about home when I should be focusing on life here in Riverdale, on V’s problem, on helping Jughead, on Ali, on Salem….

These thoughts are like mosquitos. They keep coming no matter how much bug spray I put on. They buzz around my head and bite me until I swat away violently. No matter what I do to armor up, I’m still left bitten and itching for comfort. No matter how hard I try to not think about them, to not stress out over them, the thoughts still linger in my head. And I still get worked up over them.

I decide to get some cheap hot chocolate from the vending machine down the hallway, one for V and one for myself. Having a warm beverage always seems to help ease the stress, it’s a good reset button for me, like stepping out from a loud scene to wash your hands. By the time I arrive back at our area, V is sitting up in her chair, having draped her coat across her legs. She sees me coming over with the hot chocolate, and she grins. “Thanks, girl.” she mutters as I hand her the cup.

I take my seat next to her, gently gripping onto the styrofoam cup. “You sleep okay?”

“Kind of. Lot of weird dreams.” she yawns. She sips from the cup and goes to reach for her phone. “I don’t think my father’s seen the messages yet. They’re not even left on read.”

“Maybe he’s still sleeping?” I suggest.

V tilts her head over to me, her smile having dropped. “Daddy is never the type to sleep in, unfortunately. He’s either shut into his office, or he’s out running or doing another workout. I mean….” she pauses to check the time on her phone, “It’s not even 7 in the morning, so he could be on a run right now.”

I take a quiet gulp of the vending machine drink. I watch the room around me and force myself to observe with a clear head. There’s a couple in the corner with a doctor whispering to them. A mother and her children are in a deep slumber with the sun hitting their faces. The receptionist at the desk tries to maintain composure when someone argues with her on the phone. Out of all these faces, the ones V and I helped aren’t around.

“Do you know what happened to Midge?” I turn back to V. Her mouth opens slightly, then she shrugs her shoulders.

“I think her mom came and picked her up?” She struggles to recall more. Her fingers curl in and out on top of her coat. Her pearls glimmer in the peaking sunlight. V looks over at me in regret. “Sorry. My memory is so fuzzy right now.” She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. Het thumb traces over the groove of the cup. “I don’t know why I couldn’t get out of that state last night. Maybe…..maybe Moose wouldn’t have gotten injured---”

“V!” I rotate to face her, causing her head to come back up. I reach for her free hand, “Moose is alive, and that’s what matters!” Wow, my voice sounds a little broken. I’m trying to stay optimistic, but now…..it’s becoming harder and harder to keep up my good spirits. To support everyone around me when I don’t have the same energy myself.

“You saved him, ‘Brina. Not me.” she comments. “But I get your point. We prevented our classmates from dying. Let’s just hope Midge doesn’t become some vengeful Valkyrie and throw us off the team.” Normally, I’d scoff it off and move on to another subject. But thinking about Midge and how she could react to her boyfriend almost getting slaughtered in front of her….. Those things she said about V and her family. Her questioning of my friendship with V. The possession…..

“Hey, be careful.” V nudges me. She points down at my cup, “You don’t want to put a hole in that.” I look down…..my fingernail is close to piercing the cup. If I go in any further, hospital hot chocolate could wind up all over my legs, and the floor. I relieve my finger from that area, muttering a “sorry” to V before taking another slow sip. I feel embarrassed right now. In my head, the whole room is watching me fumble, yet no one else is paying attention in reality. My nose gets a bit runny, so I reach for a leftover napkin in my pocket to dab away the wetness. For some reason, I stare down at it. The napkin has nothing but clear, dampness on it. Was I expecting more? Like…...blood?

The room comes to life when a herd of football players, led by Archie and Midge, storm into the waiting area. V and I stand up instantly, partially because we don’t know the reason behind this sudden visit. Midge approaches us, cradling a stuffed-animal moose with a red bow around its neck. “I appreciate you waiting here, ladies.” she tells us, her voice almost inaudible. She must have cried the whole night, or stayed up until who knows when worrying over her boyfriend. V and I don’t say a word to her. Well…..I want to, but my chance gets lost when Archie joins us.

“Sabrina! Ronnie! Are you…..are you okay? How’s Moose?”

“No idea yet, Arch.” V responds, turning to me for confirmation. 

Archie shakes his head. “This is all insane. First Chuck, now Moose. It’s like the town has some sorta vendetta against the high schoolers…..the football players, really.”

“Vendetta or not, Archie, Moose is still alive.” Midge interjects with a stern stare. Then, she calms her demeanor and faces me. “Thanks to you. And Veronica. I don’t know what would have happened if you both weren’t there.”

“Good thing we took a study break,” V quickly makes up an excuse on behalf of us. She raises her brow at me, “Right, ‘Brina?” I stay silent and just nod at her with a grin. I look out at the scene around me - I really don’t recognize anyone else on the Bulldogs except for Archie. Behind us, the Bulldogs crowd over by the vending machine. A couple go over to make small talk with the receptionist. And…..for some reason, Reggie, that boy V took me to see at the soccer game, is here. Reggie spots us, then he stands next to Archie, throwing an arm over his shoulders.

He speaks directly to me, “You saved my boy last night, new girl?” I don’t know what to say to this person. I’ve seen Reggie around, and he’s in one of my classes, but I have never had a blown out conversation with him. So, I just nod. I feel like all I’ve done this morning is smile and nod. Is that all that I’m good for? Grinning and bearing it?

“If the school doesn’t make you some goddamn hero or something, I sure will!” he boasts. “Legit, Moose and I have been pals since diapers, so---”

“We get the point, Reggie.” V holds a hand up and giggles. Reggie faces her, and…...is he glowing at her? His lips curl upward, his eyes go soft. 

Meanwhile, Midge makes her way past me towards Moose’s room. “I’m going to see if the doctor has any updates. I’ll see you girls at practice?” V and I confirm the time with her, and we watch as she heads off. A couple of the football players circle her to give their condolences. How can Midge act so cool about the situation? She almost watched her boyfriend die. She got possessed then had to deal with me overreacting. Did V put some calming spell on her that I didn’t know about? Did something else happen? 

The voices stack over one another so suddenly. The noise in the area amplifies to a point where it starts to become unbearable. My hearing goes out slightly, a ringing sound echoes. The lights above me flicker. Why does this social scene have me so bothered? Why am I longing for the quiet, back in the trailer, back with Ali, back with Salem….. Salem…..

V touches my arm. “We’re gonna go check on Moose. Do you want to come with?” I blink at her without saying a word. My breathing goes hard. My nostrils feel dry. I look around between V, Archie, and Reggie. They’re staring at me like I’m a fish in a glass bowl. Is something wrong with me? Something starts to trickle down my nose.

“‘Brina?”

I quickly cover my nose and move through the three of them. “I need to get some fresh air. I’ll be right back!” I hurry out of the waiting area, not waiting to hear V or Archie call out my name. Normally I would wait for an elevator, but my feet lead me towards the staircase. I fly down the first handful of steps, then another. I only stop at the halfway point once I’m about to become out of breath. I remove my hand from my nose…..a line of blood dances along the side of my finger. My hand shakes when I lower it, my vision in front of me blurs. How is this happening? Moose didn’t die, he didn’t end up like Chuck Clayton. But I had this nose bleed when Chuck died, when I learned that Salem…..

No. It couldn’t have been Salem, could it? He’s in a cat form, not a human’s, so it wouldn’t have been him. But he morphed before Chuck met his cruel demise. He morphed into something….. But Salem can’t possibly have that much ability to shift like that. He’s a familiar, not a…..not a demon. Right?

I have to shut my eyes to keep myself from getting faint. This is so confusing. Riverdale was supposed to be a place for me to lay low, to have Ali watch over me without any trouble. Well, now I’ve caused the death and the injury of two of my new classmates, and something is wrong with Ali. And Salem hasn’t helped with much….it’s like he wants trouble to brew.

Where could have Salem gone off to last night? If he didn’t attack Moose, like I hope he hasn’t, he would have to be somewhere in town. He couldn’t have gone far….. What if somebody grabs him? What if a deer hunter or another animal trapper decides to go after him, and he gets hurt? What if he hurts them? I need to find him…..I have to stop more people from getting hurt.

I find some ability to go down the stairs. However, I’m not really paying attention to my path, and I wind up running into someone. “Woah, watch it.” the person places a hand on my shoulder, causing me to look up. It’s Jughead! He blinks at me, then he says, “Oh, Sabrina! Sorry, I didn’t know that was you? Is Archie still up….” He stops, taking a closer look at my face. His eyes widen a bit. “Did you have another nose bleed?”

“That’s not important right now!” I brush it off and act like I’m fine. “Jughead, can you help me find my cat? I haven’t seen Salem since last night, and….I don’t know if I’ll have any chance before school starts---”

“School got delayed today, so you can breathe a little.” He chuckles. Is he even taking me seriously? I roll my eyes, signaling Jughead, please, and his lighthearted expression diminishes. He glances up the staircase, then he brings his sights back to me. “Okay….we’ll probably need to go on foot around town. See, I rode over with Archie, and we already dropped Jeebs off at her school.”

Archie and Jughead rode over together? With Jellybean? That’s odd. I normally thought Jughead and his sister got rides from their mom, unless the Joneses and the Andrews have a carpool system I’m not aware of….

“Did he pick you up from the trailers?” I ask for more information. He sighs, tugging back his beanie.

He crosses his arms, and his face goes neutral. “Actually…..Jeebs and I stayed with Arch and his dad. Apparently, my dad got injured at the storage unit last night.” Wait….something happened to Mister Jones? Why was he at the storage….

Jughead continues, “He found out about the books we were looking through. And, yes - they did belong to Senior. Jeebs said he wasn’t too happy, but he won’t break my neck over it…..at least I don’t think.” That’s awful. I’ve been so worried about V and Moose, I never even thought to keep Mister Jones in my thoughts, or Jughead’s sister. I just hope that Jellybean made it out alright, and I hope….that whatever hex lied within those books…..

“You know, it’s weird.” Jughead keeps talking, not noticing how quiet I’ve become. “Last night, JB kept talking about some snake that attacked dad, then something else about Senior. Apparently, your Aunt, or whoever she is, did something to help my dad….” A snake? Jughead’s grandfather? How could those be connected….. The hexes. With magic that dark, it could have manifested something….. Did Jellybean see anything supernatural? And…..and did Ali use her craft in front of the Joneses? But what could have led her to make that decision? What could have attacked them in that unit? What time would it have happened?

Jughead finally picks up on my quietness. “Hey….what happened? Did I lose you, new girl?”

I direct my focus to him. “What time did this happen to your dad? Did Jellybean give any details?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Uh…..somewhere a little bit after dark? Why do you ask?”

I begin to ramble, “Because Moose got attacked late last night, right around when Salem…...went missing. And, this person that went after Moose…..” Jughead has to process my words for a second or two. Then, he really looks at me.

“You think the person that sliced up Moose Mason was the same person that attacked my father?”

My mouth gapes all fish-like. Every time I think about the chaotic events of last night, the eyes still stand out in my head. I still have no clue where I’ve seen those eyes…. “It could be possible!” I exclaim, way louder than I anticipated. “Because what I saw last night really freaked me out. And…..if something about this attacker could indicate something….”

Jughead begins to catch onto my point, “It could mean a resurgence of the Riverdale Reaper.” A hopeful grin appears on his face. This is such a relief! I’m not going crazy! Although…..if I saw this person’s eyes…..would Moose remember?

“Let’s ask Moose when he gets out of the hospital!” I practically jump up and down in excitement. I could bolt up the stairs right now, but Jughead doesn’t seem willing to wander up the flight of stairs to join the rest of the Bulldog gang. “I mean….unless you wanted to go up and see him now.”

He chuckles. “Maybe save it for tomorrow? I’m not exactly in the mood to fight my way through a crowd of adrenaline-pumped football players.” I get his point, the whole area became so congested for me. There was a reason I had to leave after a while….

“Also, didn’t you want to find Salem?” Jughead raises a brow at me. Of course, how could I forget? Salem!

“Okay - Salem, now. Moose, tomorrow! Let’s go!” I reach for Jughead’s hand, and I drag him down the staircase with me. Yes, getting that information about Moose’s memory is becoming a priority for our case, but right now, I have to find Salem. Maybe Salem might have seen something last night that I missed. Maybe he caught a look at whoever went after Moose and Midge in Lovers’ Lane…..or whatever…...because the more that I keep thinking about the whole thing….. I think that the person, or thing, I saw wasn’t even human.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

“So…..you’re saying that this guy you were dating in high school was….a goblin?” FP asks us after he finishes reading over the what Hiram tagged in the familiar book. Gladys glances down at the pages herself to get a better idea of what Hiram and I are educating him on.

Hiram brings his hands together while sitting down across from the Joneses. “We think he might be a demon, but we’re not so sure yet.”

“And….” FP turns to me, “He made you kill our classmates?”

“No, he did it himself.” I clarify, crossing my arms. I step away from my place in the corner of the living room. “I led them to him, though. Still played a part in all of it.”

“And now we’re afraid that he’s having another witch do the same.” Hiram jumps in. Gladys takes the book off the coffee table and brings it to her lap on the couch. She goes back and forth between the tagged pages.

She looks up at us. “You said Riverdale was practically a ghost town for witches. How could there be more besides you two and your girls?”

“It’s only a theory for now,” I answer her, “but that’s why we need to keep all of our eyes and ears open for the next few days.” My insides squirm underneath my arms, so I do myself the favor and uncross them. Talking about all of this, as a former plaything under Hal’s manipulation and now a guardian for someone who could potentially enter that relationship, warps my head. I still feel so foggy from the night before, I’m like a walking skeleton. But, I just take deep breaths and truck on with this explanation. “I have an idea of how Hal goes about his killings. He takes different forms that are animalistic, and he has to resort to Fox Forest to give him that extra boost. It’s where they found Chuck Clayton, and…..I felt a new attack happen in there last night.”

FP glares up at me. “You  _ felt _ it?” I nod, partially in guilt. He scoffs, “So…..you’re telling me every time he attacks, you feel it? Wow…..was he always this quick for the kill?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” I wander closer to the group, standing over Hiram. I sigh, “Hal and I made those attacks in a time frame of 5 to 6 weeks. Chuck Clayton died just days after Hal’s release. So he’s either that hell-bent on avenging time lost, or…..” I have to stop. I’m not sure if there really is another option besides him wanting to get back on his game, with….whoever he has acting in my place. That poor soul…..I pity the witch who freed him. Who will realize too late his real purpose for seeking their companionship. Who will have to trap him somewhere and flee, all by themselves….like me.

That’s why he’s out. I didn’t get any help in bringing Hal down…..but now I have another witch, more backup. My confidence grows as I address the Joneses. “I tried to fight him off alone, and clearly, that didn’t work so well. He’s getting stronger, and nothing will stop him…..unless we do something. Hal won with me because, to him, I was alone and vulnerable. This time, he won’t expect an army to raid his territory.” I glance down at Hiram to find him glowing at my words. I kind of have a militaristic approach with this speech, and honestly….I kind of like it.

Hiram stands up to make another statement. “We figured you two would know the area the best, since Riverdale has undergone significant change from the last time Alice and I were here. So….”

Gladys fills in the rest of the sentence, cutting him off. “You want us to act as scouts? Is that code for being bait for this thing?”

Hiram rolls his eyes at her. “We would need to track down locations of interest where our familiar of interest would harbor his victims. We need to pinpoint patterns of behavior of the folks here in town, to see if our target has a likelihood of attacking.”

FP still looks confused. I jump in, “Let me put that into English for you – we need to gather as much research as we can, so whenever Hal makes his next attack, we can nab him right where we want him.” I turn to FP, “Does that clear up anything?” He shifts uncomfortably on the couch…..something’s bothering him about the whole matter. On one hand, I don’t blame him for the unease. He survived a near-death experience with a supernatural entity last night, and he became aware once more of my witchcraft. Those both would leave most mortals not wanting to interact with our kind all together, so the fact that FP hasn’t run is impressive. On the other hand…..Hiram and I can’t fight this battle on our own. Fighting Hal with just witchcraft won’t suffice by itself. We need as many hands on deck as possible in order to protect our kids, blood-related or not.

I’m preparing to ask FP what’s troubling him when Gladys rises from the couch. She smirks over at me, “Smart plan, witch.” Then, she turns to Hiram. “One problem though – FP and I don’t exactly have the luxury of working an easy-going 9-to-5 schedule to make time needed for this. Plus, we got kids to raise and feed.”

Hiram’s trying hard not to let his irritation show right now. FP joins his wife’s side. “It’s not that we don’t want to do it….” He takes a second to give me a brief grin. He steps away from Gladys so he’s more in the middle between me and her. The four of us are now in a hybrid of a circle and a square. FP speaks to us, “We want to help, more than anything. But it’s a matter of how we’re gonna have the time to help. I mean, if Gladys and I are still at work, and you two need the aid with…..whatever magic you’re doing, who will step in to provide that assistance? Who will keep you guys updated on potential danger zones if we’re not around?”

“I can help with that!” a voice pipes up out of nowhere. The four of us turn towards the kitchen to find JB sitting at the kitchen table. She’s grinning ear to ear at all of us with Hot Dog at her feet. Has she overheard the whole conversation? Does she now know everything about Hal and what we’re facing? FP and Gladys stare at one another, shocked that their daughter just appeared out of nowhere. Hiram……I can’t tell what he’s feeling. He’s confused, miffed…..impressed.

He stares at the Joneses and points a finger at the girl. “Was anyone else aware of the Hobbit in the room?”

FP sends dagger-eyes to him. “That  _ Hobbit  _ happens to be our daughter, Lodge.” He backs up a couple of steps, then he turns so he can walk over to his daughter. He bends down to her level. “Jellybean, what are you doing out here, kiddo? Aren’t you supposed to be working on homework?”

She smirks. “I did it already. Checked all my answers.” Gladys exchanges a nervous look with me. She decides to go over to her family in the kitchen.

“Wait wait wait…..you’re telling us that---”

“Yeah, guys. I overheard everything. And….I want in.” FP’s stunned, and Gladys is getting a bit concerned. JB pushes on the table so she can stand up. Hot Dog prances over to me in the living room. I watch as the youngest Jones advocates her case, “Aunt Ali needs help, and it wouldn’t be fair to have her go against….whatever you guys were talking about, without good tools and research. So, that’s where I can come in!”

“Jellybean….” Both FP and Gladys raise their voices at her, then stop. The little girl loses her streak of pride, her posture weakens. They look at one another in regret, not sure of what to tell their daughter. For some reason, they turn their heads to me. I take one peek over at JB, her eyes plead for me to take her on, to not leave her behind. Seeing how much JB and I have warmed up to one another has me thinking….

I wave for the Joneses to come over. FP and Gladys don’t give much thought to the matter, they just tell JB to wait there and walk over to where I’m standing. I place my hands on my hips firmly. “Look,” I begin, “I know you’re worried about her. This job isn’t easy…..and not exactly a hundred percent safe. But….” I pause for a second to glance over at JB. Her thumb taps on the table, her knee bounces. She hasn’t tried to eavesdrop on the conversation, and I don’t think Hiram plans on making an effort to engage with her. I decide to speed up my speech, “This can give her something to do after school. I’ll make sure nothing happens to her.” FP leans down so he can quietly voice his concern.

“Alice, we don’t want this to turn into a babysitting job for you.”

“It won’t.” I tell him. The more that I go on, the more I realize how similar JB and I are, how much she struggles the way I did at her age. I speak from the heart, “I think she wants a friend. Someone, besides you two and her brother, to have as a friendly face.”

“Gotta point.” Gladys comments. “The kids at school haven’t been too kind to her.” She takes a look back at her little girl and examines her silent demeanor. A couple seconds later, she looks up at FP, placing her hand on his upper arm. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her into him, planting a kiss on her forehead. Their nonverbal exchange doesn’t signify much right away, but it might be a sign of hope. The two nod their heads at one another, then they return to meet with their daughter.

I turn on my heels to find Hiram scanning the Jones’s bookshelves. I leave Hot Dog and wander over to Hiram, “You’re not gonna find anything fancy in here.”

He shoots me a gleeful smirk. “Just curious, that’s all.” He puts back one book he pulled from the shelf before rotating towards me. The glow disappears, his face goes neutral. “Actually, I wanted to ask, have you heard from Miss Spellman this morning?”

Sabrina. Oh no, I’ve been so distracted by my personal issues, Hiram’s unexpected vow, and getting the Joneses caught up that the thought of Sabrina has slipped my mind. Where is she? How is she doing? Why did she not come back last night?

“No.” The panic sets in, I don’t know why he’s asking me this. Hiram proceeds to pull out his phone.

“I received these last night.” He shows me a series of texts from last night…..from his daughter. I briefly look at what’s written and…..does this sound like Veronica? “I think Sabrina used Veronica’s phone to send these, but….”

“Who’s at the hospital?” I take a closer look at the string of text. Sabrina goes on rambling in this string explaining that one of her classmates had a near-death experience, she had to rush him and his girlfriend to the hospital, she and Veronica are waiting to see how the boy is doing….. The vision I had last night. That boy getting attacked…..he was protecting someone else in the car. A girl. Wait…...could that mean…...

Something collides into me and wraps its arms around me. I look down and to the side…..it’s just JB. She’s beaming up at me, “I’m in, Aunt Ali! I can help you out!” So FP and Gladys must have worked something out, that’s wonderful news! But Sabrina…..and that boy…. Oh well, it will have to wait, and I can’t leave JB wondering.

I hand the phone back to Hiram and give the young girl a big side hug. “That’s wonderful, sweetie.” I look over to the kitchen as Gladys and FP return to the living room, arms wrapped around one another. “Are you guys sure you’re alright with this?”

“Don’t worry, witch.” Gladys smiles. “We all came to a little agreement - if she stays in school and gets homework done like she should, she can provide whatever services you need when we’re not available.” JB has the biggest smile looking up at me…...wow, she really does remind me of a younger Sabrina. Why is this little girl making my heart melt so much? I mean, the fact that she’s willing to do this for the group and face Hal….

Oh no. What if Hal ever got his hands on JB, all just for helping me? Should I even be allowing this girl to aid me if I’m leading her into danger too? But she’s already so committed, her parents already gave me their blessing, I can’t turn her away now.

The realization causes me to let go of JB. I rotate her around to face me, I bend down and take a hold of her face. “Jellybean…..you’re a very brave little girl for wanting to take this on. I’m only warning you now because I care about your safety, and so do your parents. This job won’t be easy, and it certainly won’t be like dealing with mean kids at school. What I…..what we’re trying to find is extremely dangerous, and it’s caused a lot of people to---”

JB takes my hand from her face and holds it in her own. “It’s okay, Aunt Ali.” she reassures me. She’s so calm about her demeanor, so unfazed. It makes me fear for her even more, the same way, if not more than, I fear for Sabrina. She continues to give me that confident grin when she tells me, “It might be a little scary, but….” she turns to look at her parents, “I have mom and dad.” Then she faces me again, “And I have you. And…..” Finally, JB looks over at Hiram. Her face scrunches up at him, like she’s trying to figure out something. I can’t help but look at him too, I wind up staring back and forth between the pair. Can she tell that he…..

She tilts her head at him. “Are you a wizard?”

He looks flabbergasted. No, offended. Hiram points a finger at JB, saying to her in a stern voice, “EXCUSE ME?”

Yet, JB doesn’t back down. She just keeps firing at him. “I mean, can you do what Ali does? Like….witchcraft and stuff? Making you a male equivalent?” Eventually, his face softens, his finger lowers. Good, I wasn’t ready for FP and Gladys to initiate World War Three over Hiram chastising their daughter. He sighs, then nods before turning to me with a confused expression. 

“What? She’s a smart kid.” I shrug at him, making JB giggle. It’s kind of adorable that she wants to learn so much about our culture…..witch culture, if I’m being specific. Although, I don’t know if Hiram will be kind enough, or willing, to share how we classify ourselves. I have her face me, “But, to answer your question…..he’s just a witch, like me.” She doesn’t exactly get it, so I have to clarify for her, “It’s a gender-neutral term. There are some who prefer to be labeled warlocks, but they do a different level of magic. But, mortals tend to gender stereotype the two because of how we’re portrayed in literature and on screen. And it’s not always friendly either.”

JB frowns. “That’s kinda rude. And sexist.” The comment almost has me burst out laughing. Instead, I wind up looking FP and Gladys in the eyes with a big grin on my face. JB leaves my side and comes closer to Hiram, making him slightly back up. I don’t think he knows what to make of her. Veronica has boldness to her, but JB has a bit more spunk. And she has a lip like her mom and dad. She tilts her head up at him and crosses her arms. “You know, you kinda remind me of Draco Malfoy. Without the blond hair. Wait…..his dad. You’re like Draco Malfoy’s dad!”

Hiram stays silent, he just blinks at her with angry eyes. Then, he slowly bends down to her level. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you? Hobbit child?”

JB stands tall, she practically looms over him now. She just smiles straight at him. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, wizard.” With that, she strides over to her parents with the stinkiest grin on her face. At this point, I can’t hold it back. I break out in laughter, and so do FP and Gladys. The two hug their daughter, and…..I think I hear Gladys whisper  _ That’s my girl _ . I turn to Hiram, and oh my, does he look embarrassed. I move over to him, still giggling like a hyena. He rises up back to his full height as he stares at me.

“You have something to say about this, Acid Queen Alice?” his voice goes deep. Eventually, I calm myself down from the fit of laughter. Then, I pat his shoulder.

“Welcome to the real world, Manhattan. You’re gonna love it.” I smirk up at him, allowing the sarcasm to flow out. He scowls, and I start laughing again.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

I’m lucky the school’s library isn’t crowded today. It gives me the space and quiet to focus on what questions I want to ask Moose. It’s been about a day since V and I took him and Midge to the hospital, and Moose is supposedly out today. The school plans on going forth with the memorial pep rally this weekend, meaning Midge is still determined to make the Vixens shine. Yet, I can’t focus on cheer right now….. 

I had no luck finding Salem, even with Jughead aiding me in the search party. We didn’t get to search much of town before school started, but the moment I got out of cheer practice, V joined me and Jughead to scan the town for any sign of my familiar. Still, we were unsuccessful. I just hope that wherever Salem went off to, he makes it back to the trailers safe and sound. I hope he isn’t out in the world causing any sort of trouble.

I tap my pen on the edge of my notebook to encourage my brain to formulate new questions. I’m not a newscaster, or a professional journalist….. I only want to know if what I saw that night matched the same figure that attacked Moose. I need to know if the Riverdale Reaper really has come back, and what to do if he strikes again.

Jughead joins me at the table, placing down a cup of vending machine coffee in front of my notebook. “Figured you might need the fuel.” 

I let out an exaggerated groan in relief. “Thank you.” I take the cup and sip on the coffee right away, allowing the drink to warm me up. I set the cup down and examine my notes. “How do we do this without scaring him?”

“I mean…..” Jughead takes a seat across from me and frees his hands to make air quotes, “we’re “interviewing him for an article” to coincide with Chuck Clayton’s death, and the pep rally. And since we didn’t get a chance to do it yesterday, it’d be reasonable to talk with him now.”

That makes sense, but….. “It’s not the article I’m worried about.” I sigh and close my notebook. My fingertips tap on the table, I don’t know if the coffee has kicked in but I’m all jittery right now. I look up at Jughead, “I need to know that I’m not going crazy. That I…..that I didn’t hallucinate whoever hurt Moose. And….I’m can’t stop worrying about what could have happened to Salem….”

Without a word, he slowly nods his head. “Has he done that before?” Done…..wait, what is he talking about? I raise my brow at him, all confused. Then, he clarifies, “I mean, has he just….wandered off before and not shown up until later?” My hand stops moving. In fact, my arm freezes. Salem disappeared after killing Chuck. And now he’s nowhere to be found, and it happens to be around Moose’s recovery. But why would Salem leave so suddenly and disappear into the woods without---

Chuck was found in Fox Forest. Moose and Midge were parked in Lover’s Lane…..outside of Fox Forest. Does that mean Salem is hiding out there? Is that a place where he…..

Jughead picks up on something in the distant, and he taps my arm. “He’s coming.” I snap out of my silent, panicked faze, and I whip my head around. From the other end of the aisle, Moose searches around the library. Is he looking for us? He spots me from the opposite side, then he perks up. He hurries over to our table. I need to calm down and not panic. I need to keep my thoughts together. But…..in my head, I’m bouncing off the walls. My heartbeat quickens when Moose arrives.

He speaks directly to me. “Midge said you wanted to talk?” I stare at him with my mouth slightly open. I look to Jughead for any form of reassurance, he gives me an expression indicating,  _ It’s okay _ . I take a long breath in to make myself calm down, then I give my attention to Moose.

“Yeah.” my voice comes off weak. “For…..for the paper.” I say, gesturing over to Jughead. Moose nods at me before taking a seat in between the two of us. He’s nervous right now. I can tell by how he looks down at his feet, how his hands fall into his lap with crinkling fingers. Whatever lively persona he held when I first met him has vanished. The Moose that sits in front of me now is timid, afraid to say the wrong thing. The attack haunts him…..and it haunts me too.

I reach for my pen next to my notebook, and Jughead follows in suit, turning to a blank page in his journal. The clicking of his pen echoes in this quiet section of the library, it almost makes me jump out of my seat. I notice Moose glancing around the room, unsure of what questions we would fire at him. What painful memories we could extract for a shock-value article worthy enough to make the  _ Wall Street Journal _ . But that’s not the purpose of why I need to talk to him.

I tap my pen on the table a couple of times before I manage to look back over at Moose. I start slow, stumbling with my words, “Okay….look, I know I should ask if you’re okay or…..something in that range of a question, but….” Ugh, I can’t even form a sentence right now. Did I swallow a stutter potion? Did someone place a spell on me to forget my speech? What is wrong with me? I force the air out through my gritted teeth. I have to get to the point here, I can’t leave Moose hanging. So, I dive in, “Moose, we need to talk about the…..what came after you and Midge.”

He doesn’t respond. He blinks at me, a little bit startled and confused, which I don’t really blame him for. Oh no, have I scared him? Did I ruin my chance of finding out the truth, of getting information for Jughead? I don’t know how to recover from this, I’m not good at interviewing people, so I turn to Jughead with my eyes ablazed.

Luckily, he’s able to jump in. He tells Moose in a calm tone, “We’re doing an article about strange events in this town, and we have suspicion to believe that whoever, or whatever, gave you those injures might be connected.” He pauses and twirls the pen in his hand. He finishes with a huff, “Or maybe it’s all a freaky coincidence.”

Moose scans our area, going back and forth between Jughead and me. Then, he scoffs. “Wait. You think my attack has to do with Chuck’s death? He got mauled by a bear. I was only…..” He loses his little boost of confidence and gets all shy again. Moose mutters, “I only got shot. And scratched.” A pit falls in my stomach, hearing about Chuck makes me feel guilty…...well, because I am. I caused Chuck’s death, but Moose? What did Moose do to deserve such cruel sabotage, outside of potential drug use along with Midge? 

Midge….. Salem hates her. He disappeared right before V and I found Moose and Midge. Could it be…..was Moose never the target? Was it supposed to be…...Midge?

Now I really need a description from Moose. If he saw what I saw….if it really was how Salem looked the night of Chuck Clayton, it would explain where Salem went. It could guide us closer to learning what really went down in the Conway House, and why Salem is the way he is.

I add onto Jughead’s point, pushing forward despite the guilt, “There’s been a series of strange deaths, years ago. And….we think it might be happening again.” I set down my pen and look Moose in the eyes. “You’re lucky you made it out, Moose. You saw your assailant…..you may be the key to helping others avoid a similar fate, or worse.” The more I reflect on my own words, the more I realize the consequences of my impulsive behavior lately. I jumped full-heartedly into helping V get her vengeance on Chuck, and it costed him his life. I refused to follow the Path of Night, and now my family’s reputation has been tainted. Whatever I inflicted into Salem, whatever fears I have shared with him….. I need to stop Salem from hurting anyone else. That is….if it was him. I still am trying to believe the opposite. I still want to have some hope about my familiar.

I sense Moose becoming more comfortable in our little circle. He releases his hands from their tense grip, then breathes in and out. With somber eyes, he nods at me. “Alright.” he mutters. “What do you want me to tell you guys? What he wore? What the scratches on my body….” His gaze goes distant for a second, like he’s struggling to put together the pieces. He looks straight at me, “You know what’s weird about this whole thing? When the doctors took me back to stitch me up, they couldn’t really do much. Like….I felt like I got shot and ripped up, but…..” He pauses, bringing a hand to the area of his stomach and abdomen. “Nothing was there. Not one bullet hole, not a single slash…..it was like I was hallucinating the whole thing…..”

I swallow a lump in my throat, my eyes going big. I only remember now that on the way to the hospital, V and I wiped out Moose and Midge’s memories of us utilizing our magic to help them, as well as removing that Jingle Jangle from their systems. No wonder Moose is in such a daze…..I made him come off that way. But I don’t vocalize this, simply because I don’t want to frighten Moose again, and…..and I don’t think now would be the best time to reveal my witchcraft to Jughead. IF I eventually decide to let Jughead in on the secret.

Anyway, Moose lowers his hand, picking back up on what he was saying, “But, I swear I saw him. I’m not crazy….am I?” The last part of his sentence makes his voice go high. His eyes dart between me and Jughead, looking for some form of sympathy. I know Moose isn’t lying. I just need Jughead to believe him…..believe us. Jughead and I lock eyes, I shrug my shoulders at him. I mean, I could do something to cog Moose’s memory, but I can’t use my magic here. Unless Jughead has any bright ideas…..

A couple of seconds pass, then Jughead clicks his pen open. He starts hesitantly, “I’m not a professional sketch artist, but…..maybe a simple headshot of the guy could work? Just in case any other student or Riverdale citizen happens to lay eyes on this creep.” He finishes by shooting me a look, seeking approval. Well, that’s certainly an idea! I give Jughead a thumbs up, and he flips his book to a clean page.

I direct my attention back to Moose, and I begin to prompt him, “Okay, so tell us everything you can recall to the best of your ability…..slowly.”

Moose releases a methodic exhale, then he speaks. “His face was…..oval-like. He kinda had a sharp chin….I think? I’m not really sure, the guy had his face in the shadows.” Jughead starts to sketch an outline of the face, matching Moose’s description. “I couldn’t really tell the age of this guy, but…..he looked strong, like he knew how to wield a weapon.” Jughead completes the outline of the attacker’s face, quickly sketching a neck and shoulder tops.

“So, on the face, did you notice any features?” Jughead inquires, looking up from his notebook. We both wait for Moose to think on the question, but my mind replays that scene, staying on our person of interest. His eyes…...Moose would have seen them if he can recall this much about him. It’s like my inner voice is chanting for Moose to find that part of his memory.  _ Talk about the eyes _ , it whispers,  _ think about his eyes _ …..

This inner chanting must have affected Moose, because he mutters, “The guy had small eyes.” With much excitement, Jughead creates the eyes of this figure. Moose continues, “I mean, they were…..normal? But…..something was off about them. Like it wasn’t…...human. The dude’s eyes practically glowed in the dark. And….” He pauses, like he’s become too afraid again. I’m tempted to ask, And the color? What color were they? Yet, Jughead and I have pushed him too much, I don’t want to frighten him further. Although, I could use a spell to conjure the last bit from his memory, to extract what I need for….. Wait. Who am I really doing this for? Am I helping Jughead with an article? Am I helping Moose conquer his fear? Am I…..am I being selfish and doing this so I can distract myself from worrying about home, and Salem, and Ali?

“His eyes were like….ice blue.” The little detail hits me. My face freezes, chills run down my spine. So I was right, because Moose saw those eyes too. And….and it confirms that the figure I saw might not have been human. Then what was it? Another demon? Something sent from Greendale? Salem…..no, no no no don’t think like that. It was NOT Salem, he promised me he wouldn’t hurt anyone else…. But what else could explain his disappearance? No, I don’t want to believe it, I refuse!

A tear streams down my rock solid face. And….something drips out of my nose again. Jughead and Moose both give me an odd look, oh no. I can’t have them see me like this. Without much thought to it, I rise up out of my chair and head out of that little area of the library. The door leading out back into the school hallway flies open, people stare as I run past. But I don’t want to be stopped by anyone right now, I don’t want to cause a scene. I need air, I need quiet, I need Salem.

I run out of the main building, collapsing on the concrete stairs once I’m outside. My heart thuds to the point where it could fly out of my chest. My nostrils burn, my skin itches, I can’t control the tears. I struggle to breathe as I look up at the grey sky above. My cheeks feel heavy right now, it’s cold out here. I try to think of something positive, were there any techniques Ali taught me as a child to help calm me down? I stay staring at the sky, taking in the different hues of grey as the clouds slide across this sea. A droplet of blood lands on my finger, but I don’t bother to clean up my mess. My heartbeat slows down a little, but it still goes quick. I’m fighting back a sob, I wonder if Jughead or Moose, or even both of them, are trying to find me. I wonder if V can sense my sudden agony. It’s quiet out here, and it’s…..lonely. I bring my gaze down to the area around me. No one comes through the door, no one walks up these stairs or passes the school on the sidewalk. All that’s out here is cars on the road, the brustling of the trees, leaves blowing away with the end of fall, a black cat coming over to----

A BLACK CAT. I stand up, choking on air, as Salem runs up the steps. “Not in the mood for class, I take it?” he chuckles.

“Salem!” I sob. I bend down and reach for my familiar. I have so many questions, I have mixed emotions ranging from relieved to angry to confused to…..everything. But right now, I don’t want to bother letting those feelings out. I’m not in the mood to berate Salem. Right now, I just need company. I need comfort.

I cling to Salem and cry into his fur.

XXXXXXXX

The hallway’s starting to quiet down, which is nice considering that my head is throbbing. My face still feels heavy from that panic attack earlier, and my throat’s a bit sore from that crying. But I’m better now, and I at least have Salem with me again. After we left the entrance of the school, we went for a walk around the track by the football field, and Salem admitted that he got lost in the woods. He used my aura to help find his way back to me, hence why he came over to me outside the school. I didn’t know if I fully trusted his word, and I still don’t, since the eyes of that figure look eerily close to Salem’s, but I was too exhausted to fight back at that point. I just nodded my head and went along with the story. After that, I returned to classes and wound up having lunch with Jughead in the Blue and Gold Room, just to let him know how I was doing. I’m relieved that he didn’t begin asking me questions about my nose bleeds, or how Salem just came back at will. He was too focused on the article to dive deep into that information.

I don’t know if I’m up for cheer practice today. I could just call-in sick and have V go over the routine again with me later. I could wander down to Pop’s and do some homework while I wait for Ali to finish. Yet, I don’t really feel like facing the wrath of Midge. It might be good for me to get some exercise in and keep myself distracted from all the negativity, and the loneliness. I tap my fingers on my locker door, debating on what to do. At my feet, Salem stretches up and runs his paws against my shin. I turn down to him and giggle, the little gesture of comfort tickles. I shut my locker door, still staring down at him. “Come here, you attention hog.” I tease as I sling my backpack on and scoop Salem into my arms. He lets out a small mew.

I turn to head over to the locker room, only to find Midge in front of me. My mouth gapes open, I stumble back, holding onto Salem for dear life. “Oh,” I start, “I didn’t realize you were there.”

“Sabrina, are you feeling any better?” Midge sounds all concerned. “Moose told me you ran out on him. I just wanted to see if you were okay.” She looks down at Salem and smiles. “Seems like you found your emotional support animal, so that’s good!”

Salem growls. “And that’s my cue to leave.” He attempts to wriggle out of my arms, so I go ahead and release him to the ground. I smooth out my pants to remove any traces of cat hair, then I return my attention to Midge.

“I….I didn’t freak him out, did I?”

She scoffs with a smile. “Oh, absolutely not! The police have been coming for answers since he got out, so….talking with you was a good break away from all the craziness.” She pauses, taking a step closer towards me. “Speaking of craziness….how have you held up since Moose went to the hospital? Are you shaken up by it?” I stare at her, unable to form a speedy response. To be honest, I don’t know who….or what, decided to make Moose a target. I don’t know if I can trust Salem and his story. So, am I shaken up? Am I really doing okay? Am I moving past it and pretending like I haven’t kept having panic attacks, and nosebleeds I can’t explain, and a sense of guilt that just keeps increasing---

A gasp of air brings me out of my intrusive thoughts, not realizing at first that the noise came from me. I look at Midge and swallow the building wall of saliva in my throat. “I’ll be alright.” I croak out, hoping that this white lie can manifest into something real. “I feel better now.”

“Oh, Sabrina.” Midge pouts. She places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay if you’re not feeling well. I was gonna say…..you’re kind of looking a bit pale, but I didn’t want to be rude.” I don’t say anything. I’m not really that shocked about the comment itself, more rather that I’m surprised by how blunt she’s acting around me. She keeps going, “Trust me, I’ve been down with sickness myself, and cheering with all that junk in me was NOT fun in any way whatsoever. So….I guess what I’m trying to tell you, Sabrina, is…..” she stops, searching for the proper words. I can’t help but wonder what Midge really wants. Why she’s really here to talk to me instead of saving it for after practice. She takes a deep breath in, then lets all the air out. Midge looks me dead in the eye, “Don’t fret over the routine for this weekend. Take the time you need to recover.”

My eyes bulge, my mouth goes wide. Hang on…..Midge won’t let me perform? All because of some stupid little fear that I could infect the rest of the Vixens? How is this fair? I’m not sick! I practically saved her, and Moose! And this is how she thanks me? By telling me to have a nice life? I want to protest, to fight back, but Midge fills in the gaps before I can build my defense. “I know I’ve been a little pushy with you, since you just joined. But I think it would be inhumane of me to push you to an unrealistic concept of a perfect dance routine if you’re under the weather. It wouldn’t be fair to you, or to the rest of the Vixens.” I could scream, I could yell. Of course, this really isn’t about my recovery. This is about saving the reputation of her team. Because who would want to watch a performance including a new girl who happens to be sick? Midge doesn’t care about me!

“Midge…” I stutter out through my gritted teeth.

“It’s alright, Sabrina.” she tries to reassure me, giving me a fake grin. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to show off your stuff when basketball season comes around. Besides, it’s only one routine! We’re going to be crazy busy with more in the future!” My mouth goes open and closed, one at a time repeatedly. My eyes start to get wet again, I’m on the verge of angry tears. Did Midge consult anyone else on the team before making this executive decision? Did she talk to V about it? Who gave Midge the authority to decide what to do with my life---

I look away from Midge, staring off into the distance. I can’t ever be in control of anything. And it’s my life! Mine! I couldn’t control my trip to Riverdale, I couldn’t opt out of my Dark Baptism willingly. And now I can’t perform with V and the other Vixens for this memorial pep rally. It all correlates. I feel so helpless.

Midge still has her hand on my shoulder. I hear her say, “If you want, you can still wear your uniform and stand by the bleachers on Saturday. But only if you’re feeling up to it. Just let me know, okay?” I don’t look back over at her, I don’t say a word. She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze, then she walks away, all nonchalant. 

I wait for Midge to disappear before I let out a frustrated sigh and bang my palm against my locker. My fist curls against the metal as I lean my head against it and cry. Why is this bothering me? Why do I keep making connections out of nothing? It’s just high school! But it does irk me, it makes me feel so out of control. Why can’t I ever know what’s going on?

Salem grumbles at my feet. He nudges his head against my leg. “Hey….” his voice goes soft, “it’s alright.” I know he’s trying to make me feel better, but right now, it’s not helping. I push away from the lockers and head out towards the school’s entrance. I could go find V and talk with her about this by the bleachers. I could join Jughead in the Blue and Gold. Heaven, I could even consult Archie about this! But I don’t think I want to stay at school a minute longer. At this point, I just want to go home.

The cold air hits as I make my way down the staircase. Sniffling out tears, I tighten my backpack straps, not paying much attention to where I’m walking. Behind me, Salem prances at a quickened pace to catch up. “Sabrina, hold up!” he chirps. “This doesn’t have to be the end! We can go find Midge and confront her together---”

I stop and whip my head at him. “I’M NOT IN THE MOOD, SALEM.” I bark down at him rather harshly. He blinks at me as I rant, “I don’t know what’s happening anyone, I don’t know why Moose got attacked, and…..and I don’t know why it took YOU so long to come back! You disappeared on me, Salem! I needed your help to help Moose and Midge, and you weren’t there! Where were you hiding? WHAT are you hiding?” I have to stop speaking because I’m running out of breath. The emotions I tried to bottle up earlier are flowing out. I want to be patient. I want to trust the course of life, to trust Salem, but I can’t. I’m so confused, and no one is giving me a clear answer. Not even the people I call my family. The only people I really trust right now are V and Ali.

Ali….she doesn’t know about Moose. I haven’t been honest with her about anything here. But would I make her depression worse? Would I make her hate me? I guess it doesn’t matter, because all I want in this moment is someone to talk to, someone who knows me. I turn my feet towards the path to Pop’s. I take one step, then another, silently crying as I think about Ali and what to tell her. I stop, turning back to Salem. He hasn’t left his spot, he just looks at me with his head tilted.

I huff. “You could follow me if you want, or you can run off again. I don’t care anymore.” My voice sounds so broken, it wounds me. I don’t wait for Salem to defend himself, I don’t wait for him to catch up to me. I pull out my phone so I can text Ali of my whereabouts.

** _To Ali: Walking over to Pop’s now. Had a long, bad day. _ **

I contemplate on saying more, maybe considering telling her of my sickness. But I can explain all of that when I see her in person. I slide my phone back into my coat pocket, not bothering to reach for it when it buzzes once, then twice. It probably is Ali responding back, or it might just be another random notification. Yet, I ignore the buzzing all together.

Time flies during my walk. I keep my head up at the sky, watching the light begin to leave. The wind picks up the faster I walk. The temperature drops significantly. The scenery of the town fades, the surrounding forest consumes the landscape. The sidewalk transforms into the little foot pathway leading to Pop’s. I feel a bit calmer, but the weariness and the sadness stick like duct tape. The negative thoughts and emotions won’t go away. Voices play in my head, telling me I’m the one who screwed up, that people make choices for me because I don’t have what it takes to make them for myself. That I’m pathetic, weak, an embarrassment. And no matter what I do to silence them, they only amplify.

Something white falls onto my coat. I stare down at the little speck out of curiosity. Then more wet specks drop, slowly and in numbers. I turn up to the grey sky….it’s finally snowing outside. Flurries of white and grey embrace the earth below me, they land on my face, my hair, my clothes. It’s so beautiful…. I extend my arms out and allow myself to have this little moment of peace. The snow blends in with the wet streaks on my face. I can feel my cheeks go red and numb from the cold, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m so numb at this point, so willing to just let go and give in to the cold, to the….

My arms tense. I hear a bolt of lightning strike in the sky above me. The voices come back, louder than before. I have to open my eyes and look up. Lightning bolts pierce the wintery scene, in sync with the harsh whispers. They tell me to leave, to turn back, to claim what is rightfully mine. It’s horrifying and it’s euphoric.

** _You are stronger than the ones before. Give in to the power. You can do better. You MUST do better._ **

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I bring my hands up to my ears and squeeze my eyes shut. Another flash of lightning makes the earth shake. Snow continues to fall, mitigating the nightmare from above. I open my eyes and release my grip, the voices are no longer there. Well….there’s one voice. But it’s not from my head, and it’s not harsh. It’s coming from behind.

“Sabrina? Sabrina!” My eyes water as I turn to the source. It’s Ali! She’s running over to me with a coat in her hands, and I can’t help but sob. She embraces me and lets me cry into her, stroking my hair. I cling to her, partially because I’m now really cold, and also I need the comfort.

She takes my face into her hands. “What happened? Why are you not….” Then her voice goes out. I sniffle, shrugging the jacket over my body.

I look up at her. “Midge….” I wince, struggling to get the words out. So, I tell Ali as best as I can, “She….she won’t…..I can’t cheer. She won’t let me.”

Ali stands there looking utterly remorseful. I start sobbing again, unable to say much else. She brings me back into her arms and soothes me, keeping me upright so I don’t fall apart.

“Oh, honey….I’m so sorry. It’s okay…..It’s okay…..” She begins to guide me out of the street, through the parking lot, into the diner, where I hope to be safe and warm.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It hurts to see Sabrina so upset. It breaks my heart to watch her deal with the aftermath of meaningless high school drama. I was once in her shoes, I dealt with the mean girls and the rumors. I’ve tried to help her avoid all of that, and now…..it seems like everything I have done to protect her is no longer working.

It’s not just Sabrina that I have to worry over with Hal on the loose. It’s Hiram’s daughter, it’s FP and Gladys’s kids, and now it’s the entirety of Riverdale High. Apparently, the boy who began my career at Pop’s was the one that Sabrina had to take to the hospital, the one I saw in my vision. Luckily, this boy, his name I learned is Moose, survived and so did his girlfriend, the one named Midge that leads Sabrina in cheerleading. I pity those kids, but at the same time, I don’t exactly know what to think of the girl. I am only aware of what Sabrina has admitted to me. And now, all I know is that for some reason, Midge won’t allow Sabrina to join the Vixens for their performance at the memorial for Chuck Clayton…..something about recovering from a sickness. I was confused at first, just because Sabrina hadn’t mentioned anything to me about not feeling well. Yet again, I haven’t kept much of an eye on her for the past couple of days, so maybe she’s come down with something that I haven’t noticed. But the whole ordeal is bothering her, it took her awhile to calm down when I brought her into Pop’s today. And oddly enough, that cat Sabrina found didn’t do much to bring her comfort. I wonder when she found him again, since she was panicking just yesterday over this feline disappearing. 

I’m fortunate that Pop allowed me to clock out early so I could take Sabrina and this cat back to the trailer park. The ride back was quiet, Sabrina didn’t really say much so I drove in silence. Seeing the snow fall for the first time this year was beautiful, I will admit. The moment we got back to the trailer, darkness began to take over the sky. I had Sabrina and her cat go and get cleaned up while I went ahead and made some dinner for us, just a simple pasta dish. We ate mostly in silence, I didn’t want to push Sabrina into talking if she wasn’t comfortable about it. And that cat…..he just stared at me from his place on the kitchen counter. Where exactly did he disappear off to, and why did it take so long for him to come back?

It’s now a little bit into the night, and I’m craving something sweet. I’m not really looking for something to chew on, but more along the lines of a warm beverage. Since it’s snowing out, and Christmas is only a few weeks away, I figure it might be time to brew up some peppermint hot chocolate. It’s simple, but it could hopefully lift Sabrina’s spirits. Melted chocolate and hints of peppermint fill the air, it really does start to feel like Christmas around here. It actually makes me a bit more optimistic about the whole situation. I’m trying to look at everything from a new lense - I have friends that will help in my mission to stop Hal, I have food in my stomach and a roof over my head, Sabrina is safe from Hal. Well….she’s struggling with her time socially at school, with Chuck and now this Midge girl, but she doesn’t appear to have fallen into any sort of supernatural traps. That’s a good thing, right?

She waits for me over by the couch as I come into the living room, bearing our mugs. The cat glares up at me from the back corner, it stands up taller on its legs.

“Don’t fret, Ali. He’s just miffed at me.” Sabrina advises with a soft voice. I set the mugs down and join her on the couch. She grabs for her mug, starting to take silent sips. I haven’t seen her this quiet, or this upset, since her birthday. I know interacting with other kids in high school can be daunting, especially if you’re from out of town, but…..I think something else has her bothered. Something she may not be vocalizing. She tells me, “Been really stressful for both of us the past couple of days. Past couple of weeks, really.”

So there is something bothering her, more than this cheerleading thing. As much as I need to know what’s going on…..I can’t just go all Zelda on her and probe her with nagging questions. I can’t forcefully extract what’s happening in her brain. I need to approach this in a calm manner. What would Gladys of FP do if it were their children? What would Hiram do? 

I bring my hand up to the back of her head so I can gently stroke her hair. “You want to talk about it?”

She stares at the wall for a lingering moment, then she turns to me with a huff. “It’s nothing that major, Ali. I’ll get over it…..” then she pauses, tapping her fingernails on her mug. She clarifies before taking another sip, “the cheerleading thing.”

My thumb rests at the top of her head, my remaining fingers curl into her locks. I’m not sure if she really is admitting everything to me. But who am I to talk? I still have yet to give her my backstory with Hal.

“Yeah, the cheerleaders weren’t too friendly to me either.” I recall from my own memories. Little flashes appear, ranging from fighting with Penelope Blossom before and after gym class, me walking away from the other girls snickering and calling me names behind my back, Hermione Gomez getting possessed and winding up paralyzed---

I curl my fist out of instinct at that last thought, my fingernails coming close to digging into my palm. No, now is not the time to whine about my own mistakes. I need to be a lending ear to Sabrina, even if she’s facing something so minor. 

Sabrina sets down her drink and readjusts herself on the couch so she can fully face me. “But it….it’s not like they’re mean. None of them are, really. Just Midge. Even then, Midge is only being a controlling perfectionist, not a bully.” She goes on to ramble, “But it doesn’t make sense….she could at least have someone catch me up on everything, or even take the time to teach me herself. But she’s so caught up on being perfect, and everyone else around her has to be perfect, and I have to pretend like everything is fine when…...when…..” Sabrina begins stuttering on her words the more upset she becomes. Her breathing goes unsteady. Her hand twitches. She squeezes her eyes shut and purses her lips. She’s trying not to break down and cry. It hurts me to see her like this.

Sabrina looks straight at me with fear in her bright eyes. “You say I’m adjusting so well to life here. Everyone does. You see me interacting with new faces and expanding my boundaries, and you praise me for my optimistic approach to it all.” Her gazes lowers down to her kneecaps. Her hands create fists on top of her legs, clenching then releasing, clenching and releasing. “I want to think that I am, I try so hard to believe it. I want to believe that I’m fine…..” Then, she releases her fists, the tears she fought to hold back begin to stream down her cheeks. She gasps for air, “But I’m not. I’m not truly happy here, no matter how much I fake it. And it’s not because of the other kids, I love my friends. But I miss home, Ali. I miss Aunties, and Ambrose, and Roz and Susie…..and Harvey…..” She wipes away newformed tears at the mention of life back in Greendale. How did I not pick up on her unease earlier? Is that why she’s been so quiet about Chuck Clayton? And….

“I don’t think this town has been so good for me. I can’t do anything right. Everytime I try to do something for someone else, or for myself, it backfires. And I don’t know how to pick up the pieces and put it all back together. And that makes me scared…..and angry…..and…..” She stops her fretful rambling and looks over at me. Her eyes go from upset to fearful. Her sobs cease when she meets my gaze.

“I’m making you upset, aren’t I?” My heart falls to my stomach. I’m not upset at her, at least I don’t appear to be….I’m blindsided, really. Sabrina blinks back more tears, then she turns away from me. Her voice wobbles, “I didn’t mean to, Ali. I’ll stop talking if…..I guess I just needed to vent to somebody other than V, or Salem. Because lately I’ve been so out of control with my emotions, and it feels like lately, I’m getting more and more angrier…..and sad……” She stops talking all the sudden, her gaze going completely distant. Now I’m really starting to panic. What is going on in this poor girl’s head? What is she telling herself? What inner voices are talking to her? From the other side of the room, the cat grumbles, almost as if it was amused at Sabrina’s distress. Like the thing wants her to fall into her negativity. 

I can’t let her go on like this a moment further. She’s blaming herself for actions that she had no part in. For feelings that generated from my own problems, not hers. I need her to hear this….from me. I leap up from my place on the couch and kneel down in front of her, taking her face into my hands. Sabrina gasps as she looks down at me. 

I tell her, “Listen to me. You are allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to be sad, and upset, and confused. You are allowed to feel however you want, and experience whatever you feel, because that’s what makes you who you are. But when you finish having those moments, know that you can accept yourself and take baby steps back to where you were. Smell the daisies, blow out the candles. It’s actually good advice, and…..and I’m going to pass it on to you, okay?” Her eyes water a little bit, her lips tremble. Without saying a word, she bobs her head up and down. I’ll take it as a yes. I allow for her to throw her arms around my shoulders and burrow her little face into my neck. I allow her to weep into me, letting her get those negative traces out of her for her own sanity. A minute or two passes, then she peels away from me. I wipe excess tears off of her cheeks, “And if you need somebody to vent to, I am always here, even when I have work or…..just sitting here.” I pause for a second. I can still sense the cat’s bad energy behind me. I still wonder how she came across this damn thing….. Is there something about this cat that she won’t own up to? Is something else going on that involves this cat? Whatever is happening between her and this thing, the discussion should still be on her own terms. I mean, if I need time to build confidence for giving Sabrina my life story, I need to give her that same respect. Whenever she’s ready to talk to me…….and whenever I finally make myself talk to her. 

I huff and bring myself to meet her gaze once again. I’m sincere when I say, “Don’t be afraid to tell me anything. Because…..trust me, I’ve been through a lot that’s pretty ugly. And…..” I almost say  _ And lethal _ , but I have to clamp my mouth shut.  _ Not yet, Alice. Listen to her before you insert yourself into the situation _ . Instead, I wind up telling her, “And it took me a while to open back up to anyone about it. Point is…..I’m here if you need to vent, or work out a solution.” That seems to calm her down a bit. Her lips curl up at the little note of reassurance, and the gesture makes me smile too. I plant a kiss on the top of her head and ruffle her hair around a bit, causing her to giggle. I’m glad she’s starting to feel somewhat better. 

I return to my place on the couch, finally reaching for my hot chocolate. The heat has disappeared, so I just use some nonverbal magic to warm it up again. I take slow sips to capture all the flavors on my tongue. I can sense the cold from outside, the shadows of snow falling outside project onto the wall in front of me. I wonder if it’s snowing in Greendale right now.

Sabrina rests her head on my shoulder. “Ali….” she starts, “Do you think something wicked resides in Riverdale?” I turn to her out of confusion. Something wicked? Sabrina looks at me and clarifies, “Not our witchcraft, I mean, but…..” She pauses to face the wall, watching the snow silhouette provide us entertainment. “Something much more sinister. Something…...rotten. Do you think there’s a hidden evil in this town, Ali?” I have to contemplate my answer. I know the town is rotten and wicked, I lived through it with Hal. And now, he’s out and back on his game. If something is plaguing this town, it’s him…… Maybe it always was him. I know Hiram and I hypothesized on it, but the more that I sit on this subject….. The cat releases a low-registered growl. It glares up at me…..those eyes are still freaking me out. Not wanting to give it any more attention, I let my gaze go distant at the wall, wrapping my arm around Sabrina. “Yeah…..” I finally speak, “Something’s here alright. Something not so good and friendly.”

I huff, closing my mouth. I let my mind wander, not wanting to focus more on Hal for the moment. Yet, images of him pop into my head. Now I can’t help but dig deeper into this…..whatever Sabrina thinks is plaguing Riverdale. Did Hal cause every single wrong in this town, long before I entered the scene, or…….did something corrupt him?

One quote goes through my mind, that one from  _ Macbeth _ , maybe because it fits the theme of the conversation.  ** _By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes_ ** . 

XXXXXXXX

We both retire into the bedroom after a while. I offer for Sabrina to take the bed while I get some rest on the couch, but she tells me to stay in here. She doesn’t want to sleep alone tonight, but she also doesn’t want the company of her cat. That’s odd…..I know the cat is creepy and all, but what did it do to sorely piss her off? The moment I step into the bedroom, the cat is right on my trail. It attempts to sneak in behind me, but Sabrina begins to shut the door on it. “No, Salem.” she urges in a calm voice, “Stay out here tonight. I have Ali with me.” It meows in puzzlement. Sabrina rolls her eyes, “You’ll be fine, Salem. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, she shuts the door all the way. A dialed back growl comes from the other side of the door. Well, it’s certainly not too thrilled with either one of us. I hope it doesn’t try to wreck the place in retaliation during the middle of the night.

Sabrina climbs into the sheets first, curling into the warmth of the silk. I slowly make my way in and wait for her to get adjusted. I’m not too tired yet, so I might read for a bit. The moment I grab one of Riverdale history books out of my drawer, Sabrina is fast asleep. Poor thing, she must have been so worked up to the point of exhaustion. I don’t blame her, I have been in her shoes many times before. Noticing that her lamp light is still on, I wave my hand and the lamp turns off.

For the next few minutes, I put my energy into concentrating on this book. I remember having to take some history class about Riverdale back in middle school, how General Pickens sought the open land and claimed it for himself and his followers. The information felt extremely biased for some reason, maybe because whoever my teacher was happened to be very Pro-Pickens, Pro-Blossom. I remember she practically made Penelope her teacher’s pet. But what about the Serpents? Gladys mentioned something about Native American witches who came together for survival, but that was all in Toledo. Were there Uktena members in Riverdale long before Thomas Topaz? Did they have to face the raid of Pickens and Barnabas Blossom? Did…..did Hal have any part in this claiming? Or was there a possibility of him attacking in revolt….against it?

My eyelids start to droop, I’m losing my focus. Okay, fine, I guess I’ll go to bed now. I puff out some air, then I close my book and set it on the side table drawer. I flick my light off before allowing my head to flop against the pillow. The darkness feels like a comfort. The sheets embrace me in the silence. For once this whole night, my head isn’t reeling with what ifs and maybes. I can finally get some good sleep tonight.

The phone rings from the kitchen. Are you kidding me right now? My eyelids fly open at the noise. My nostrils flare. It rings once, then twice, then another time. No….I’m not getting out of this bed now. But what if it’s Hiram? Or Gladys? Or FP? Or Keller? What if they….. No. Whoever is trying to call me now can wait until the morning, or they can leave a voicemail. I let the phone keep ringing and readjust back into my comfy state. It’s silent again, good. I shut my eyes, allowing my body to fall more into the mattress.

The phone goes off again. Okay, this really isn’t funny. Who has the nerve to call me at this hour? “UGH.” I groan, tossing away my portion of the comforter and top sheet. I have to be careful coming out of the bed so I don’t wake up Sabrina. Good thing she’s able to sleep through our phone going off, because I can’t stand it. And I thought I was already on edge about everything. I make a plan for myself - figure out what this person wants, then shut myself away from any distractions so I can have some decent sleep. I twist the doorknob and stomp out of the bedroom, ready to face my anonymous caller when I stop in my place. The phone stops ringing. My jaw almost drops, my eyes widen.

A woman stands with her back to me in the kitchen, hovering by the phone. One of her hands grips the handle, the other drums her fingers on the stove top. She’s in yellow and black, her blonde hair pinned half-up, half-down. Her hair color is eerily similar to my own. In fact…..she looks almost as tall as me. I look over at the door…..it’s still locked. So…..how did this…..

I build up the courage to take one step, then another, making my way over to this intruder. I want to shut the door, hoping that this interaction won’t wake up Sabrina, but I leave it ajar so I can get this woman out of here. “Excuse me, miss? Can I help you with something?” I raise my voice, but this person doesn’t respond. Her back is still to me, her fingers dance louder on the stove. And…..is that a knife laying next to her hand? I throw out, “You going to tell me how the hell you broke into my trailer?” Still, nothing. Her presence is creeping me out. Her whole aura…..her aura is strangely familiar, but I can’t figure out why. At this point, I don’t want to know why she’s here. I need her out.

I march over to her, reaching my hand out to her shoulder. I grab at her and turn her towards me, “Excuse me…...HEY I’M TALKING TO YOU---”

My voice cuts out. I’m paralyzed at the sight of this….. The stranger turns around to face me, making her movements cold and calculated. Her face…..her features…..she looks like…… Me. The intruder I’m facing is me, but it’s not really me…..is it? But a clone? A doppelganger? A hallucination? This version of me stares at me with a straight face, showing no emotion whatsoever. She doesn’t even look fazed. She steps into me, I wind up backing away. I don’t know what to say to her, I don’t think I can even speak. Am I dreaming? Or did…...did Hal…..

“Wh…..who…..who are you?” I stutter out, shuffling back towards the bedroom, towards safety. “Did Hal make you?” This creepy doppelganger says nothing. She turns to the side, back towards the stove, and grabs for the knife. She holds it out at me, taking more confident steps without breaking her cold glare.

I start to back away for real this time, raising my hand in defense. I try to reason with this doppelganger, “Woah…..wait, we can talk this out. I’ll see him, okay? Just….just put the knife down!” She doesn’t listen to me, and I don’t think she even cares. She continues to stride over to me with that knife in her hand. I back into the table, feeling a bruise form on my lower back. The doppelganger raises the blade, ready to strike at me. “NO! WAIT!”

I lift my hand to stop her, but it’s too late. The knife slices open my forearm. I holler in pain. I try to move to the side, to get out of her range, but she’s quick on her feet. She grabs me by the fabric of my nightwear and slams me into the table. My head hits the floor with a thud. My eardrums ring. I can’t focus, I can’t make sense of what’s happening. The doppelganger looms over me, not even cracking a smile in victory. She turns her head to the door, does she know Sabrina’s in there? When my head finally clears up from the throbbing, I watch as the doppelganger goes to make her way into the bedroom. “NO!” I scream, using whatever magic I can to keep her away from the bedroom. She halts, glaring down at me. Finally gaining some of my strength back, I use magic to send the doppelganger flying into the fridge. The knife falls to the ground when her back hits the fridge, but she doesn’t fall onto the ground. I manage to stand up, bracing against the table for support. We both stare down at the knife, then back at one another.

I make a run for the knife. The doppelganger steps out and kicks the knife away from my reach. I attempt to use telekinesis to conjure it, but she’s about to tackle me to the ground. I dodge her lunge, she almost collides into the table. This buys me some time, I finally use magic and the knife flies into my hands. I go to turn, to brace myself for the next attack. She grips onto my sliced open arm, the doubling pain makes me yelp. I attempt to swing the blade at her, but she knocks it out of my hand with extreme force. I’m panicking more now…..whoever she is, whoever made her like me…..it’s not human.

Making use of the free hand, I swing a punch into the doppelganger’s lower rib cage. The deadly stare disappears, she finally shows some emotion. She crumbles back some in pain. I elbow her in the same area, she lets go of my injured arm. I kick her in the stomach, sending her into the wall. But that doesn’t seem to defeat her. I begin to make a bolt for the bedroom, but she swings a leg at my ankles. I teeter into the door, my head knocking against the hardwood. I go to stumble back, the doppelganger digs her nails into my back as she grabs my nightshirt. She peels me away from the door, tossing me to the other side. I land on my back, my whole body is sore now. And I don’t even want to know the state of my arm, how much blood I’ve lost. My head gets all dizzy, my vision is blurring.

“Sa…...Sabrina…..” I plead. It almost sounds like a whisper. “Sabrina…..” I attempt to raise my voice. The doppelganger appears in my sight, pinning me to the ground. She sits on top of me and brings her hands to my throat.

The first night I came here. The deer on the road. That vision of him choking me. The memories flood back in as those hands around my throat tighten. I gasp for air. My hands paw at her wrists, they claw at her arms. I bring them up to her face with what little strength I have. She tilts and jerks her head as my fingernails find their way up to her cheeks. She continues to squeeze the air out of my lungs. I finally make my attack at her face. My nail slices at her cheek, she growls. Her grip on my throat loosens, I’m getting my strength back. I’m angry now. I scratch at her face again and finally gain some momentum to throw her to the ground. I wheeze, allowing the air to enter through my nostrils, back into my lungs. The doppelganger glances up at me, the slash on her cheek now red and irritated. Her eyes glow in anger.

She goes to lunge at me, I kick at her legs and use magic to send her into the side of the wall. I get onto my knees, crawling away from her as quickly as I can into the living room. I scan the room, finally realizing that Sabrina’s cat is nowhere to be found. Did this doppelganger do something to the cat? Is it hiding? I don’t have much time to worry over the stupid cat, because the doppelganger rises back up. She breathes heavily, her fingers curl at her sides. I need to act fast.

I spot an empty jar sitting on the bookshelf. Maybe I can trap this thing in here and figure out what to do with it later. I lift my hand and conjure some nonverbal magic. The jar zooms off the bookshelf and collides into my palm. I rise up on my elbow and twist the lid open. The doppelganger marches over to me, one menacing step at a time. I lift the jar up, beginning my chanting. “ _ TURPIS ET INFERNIS IN TERRIS PARIUNT. ADIURO _ \-----” The doppelganger whips her head to the side. The jar goes out of my hand, crashing against the wall. Well this isn’t good. I try to chant the trapping spell against, but my voice is so weak right now. My body shakes from the pain, my injured arm clenches. I need help. I need Sabrina. The doppelganger comes closer, I inch away, running out of options. I’m in fight or flight mode now. I look up at her, tears forming in my eyes. Then, with whatever force I have left, I yell, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?”

The doppelganger pauses. The cold glare transforms into a smirk, then a grimacing smile. Her eyes light up, she looks like Harley Quinn but much more demented. Her teeth show when she laughs. The color of her eyes go from my shade of blue…..to a shade of ice blue grey. Her teeth become like daggers. In my voice, she says, “Wow. You’re pathetic. You regret not having me around, Alice?”

My bones shake. A tear runs down my face. This isn’t just a random demon or cruel spirit haunting me. “Hal?”

The smile falls. The emotionless stare takes over the doppelganger’s face. One step, then another, the eyes glow as the lights flicker above me.

I raise my hands to block the attack. I shut my eyes and scream. No…..no no no no no this can’t be happening. How did Hal find me? What would have happened if he got his hands on Sabrina? HOW DID HE GET IN HERE?

The lights stop flickering, but I can’t stop screaming. My eyes are still squeezed shut, I can’t tell that the noise has stopped. I don’t pick up on the new voice coming into the room. “Ali…..ALI!” I stop screaming, I open my eyes. Sabrina runs over to me and kneels down. “Ali! It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s just me.” She strokes my shoulder in order to calm me down. I glance around the room, taking in the quiet. I notice Sabrina’s cat jump onto the arm of the couch, letting out an unusual meow. Like it was in pain.

My heartbeat slows. The adrenaline rush in me dies out. Was I just hallucinating the whole attack? Did I sleep walk and suffer a nightmare? I’m still so dizzy and confused, I can’t make sense of the whole thing. I’m just happy that Sabrina is…..

Sabrina stares down at somewhere near me. She blinks, then she gets all nervous. She stutters, “Y…...your…...your arm. Ali, your arm! What happened!” I look down at where she has her sights. Blood continues to gush out of the wound of my arm. There’s blood on the carpet from where I fought off…..

So it wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. He was here. Hal knows I’m here.

XXXXXXXX

** _End of Chapter Ten_ **


	12. Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S MEEEEEEEEEE
> 
> Hi, I'm back, I'm alive, I have a new chapter. How is quarantine treating everyone? Well, if you're bored out of your mind, I've got quite the epic saga of a chapter so, you're welcome.
> 
> You know the drill, children. Enjoy!

**SABRINA**

The blanket around my shoulders doesn’t do much to keep me warm. Yet again, I only have the one compared to Ali, who got toppled with most of the Jones’s blankets when we hurried over. I shiver under the blanket and watch as Mrs. Jones stitches up Ali’s arm on the family’s couch. Jughead stands near me by the dinner table, his little sister sitting next to Ali. 

Mister Jones paces back and forth in the living room. I hear him as he tries to make sense of the information Ali told him. “And then she just…..disappeared?” He then turns to me. “Did you get a glimpse of this person?”

I shake my head, feeling so guilty. “I only came out when I heard Ali screaming. I didn’t even know somebody came into the trailer and attacked Ali until I saw the cut on her arm.” And it’s true - Ali had to defend herself from this…...she keeps saying that it was like an identical version of herself, a doppelganger. This person tried to kill Ali…..and I was asleep the whole time. Why couldn’t I have woken up sooner? Why did I not do something? And…..and where was Salem during the raid? I only noticed him acting all skittish by the couch when I did all I could to wrap up Ali’s arm, to run over to the Joneses for help. Now, Salem’s curled into a corner of the kitchen, licking at himself with no explanation.

Mister Jones nods his head at me with a turtle’s pace. By this point, Mrs. Jones finishes the repair work on Ali’s arm, exclaiming, “That should do it, witch. You better have painkillers on hand. Or…..if you got some magic to heal that damn thing. Could get infected if you don’t look after it.”

Ali takes her time to breathe in, then out. “Thank you. Both of you.” Her voice comes out hoarse, I feel awful for her, I feel awful for not even providing her comfort over on that couch. Jellybean rests her head up against Ali’s shoulder and curls in. Ali starts to run her hand down the girl’s hair, and I somehow wish that was me instead.

My gaze goes distant, staring off to somewhere in the kitchen. The noise from the living room dies down, but I can hear Mister Jones kneeling in front of Ali. The three adults begin talking in hushed voices, hoping that Jughead and I won’t hear…...that’s odd. What are they trying to keep secret from us? And why haven’t they sent Jellybean our way? I do my best to catch phrases of what I can from Ali’s conversation with the Joneses.

_ You swear it was him? Posing as you? I saw his eyes, FP. It wouldn’t matter if he was pretending to be me, or someone else. The eyes gave it away. He knows I’m in this trailer park. What about Sabrina? Did he get near her? No…..but if he did….I’m not…..we’re not safe….. Then stay with us. That way you have more backup and that asshat won’t get his hands on your girl. Gladys, no…..She’s right, Ali. You’re better off staying here….. _

This person…..it was a he? Was this person dressed as her? I’m so confused right now…..does this have anything to do with…..when Ali was….

“Good thing you came to us when you did.” I hear Jughead mutter to me. I turn my head to him as he brings over a glass of water. He comments, “Not that the hospital wouldn’t have helped, but….it’d be a lot to take on financially.” I don’t say anything to him, partially because I too am sleep-deprived. I just claim the glass of water and take small sips. I don’t realize how dry my throat is until the water hits. I’m so distracted by drinking that I didn’t notice Jughead slipping into the bedroom until he returns with his journal. He joins me at the table and flips open to the page with the drawing.

“Not to keep digging at this, but,” Jughead goes from pointing at the book over to Ali. He leans in so he doesn’t raise his voice when he asks, “You think all of these recent attacks might be the same person?”

I freeze up. My gaze wanders down to the book, I start taking in the details of Jughead’s sketch. What would the snake and the vision of Forsythe Senior have to do with tonight? What would Moose’s attacker have to do with….. 

Oh no. Maybe it is correlated. Maybe that same…..thing recognized me from the other night and tried to come for me…..and Ali was doing all she could to protect me. Or if that thing from the storage unit went back for Ali, and……. No, I’m overthinking this. It’s too late at night. It’s just a freaky coincidence, that’s all. Right?

“I’m not sure.” I mutter in defeat. My elbows land on the table as I push my hair back away from my face. It’s cold outside, but I feel overheated. I want to sleep, but I don’t think I can fall back into a peaceful slumber. Why can’t I just calm down?

I think Jughead is sensing my distress, because he takes the book away from my view. “Hey…..we can talk later if you just want to get some sleep.”

I shake my head. “I’m alright.” I tell him, convincing myself in the process, “I’m okay, really. I….” Then my voice goes out. The stress from the past few days weighs down, but not as significantly as earlier this afternoon. By now, it’s not a state of sadness or anger. It’s not fear or guilt. At this point, it’s exhaustion. I’m tired, and I don’t think I can take on much more than I’ve already tackled.

Luckily, Jughead decides not to pester me with any questions about my wellbeing. He just says, “I get it. Not typical for a high-schooler to deal with drive-by shootings and home invasions in the course of a week.” That whole sentence leaves me unsettled. I know Jughead is only trying to provide some element of sarcastic optimism, but it’s really not helping right now. I try not to let my emotions get to the worst of me, but it feels like I’m giving him eye daggers. He takes the hint and turns away….directing his attention over to Salem.

“Good thing Houdini over here is back safe and sound. How exactly did you find him again?” I can’t help but watch Salem as he won’t stop picking at himself. Did something happen in the trailer? Did whoever attacked Ali go after Salem too?

“I didn’t.” I tell Jughead. “He found me.”

Our conversation gets interrupted when Mister Jones returns to the kitchen area. He approaches me cautiously, “You okay with staying here tonight? Unless you were…..” he doesn’t finish the sentence. Wait, does he think that I’m going to walk out or…..maybe spend the night with V at Pembrooke? I mean, I would go spend the night with her, but I don’t want to turn away the Jones’s kind hospitality, and leave Ali all by herself. Besides….I haven’t exactly updated V on the whole cheer situation. Or the Salem situation. Maybe I can talk with her tomorrow, maybe she might be able to help….

I think I’ll just stay here in the trailer park tonight and keep an eye on Ali. I don’t want to feel abandoned. I don’t want to see her become mysteriously hurt again. I tell Mister Jones, “I’m okay with staying here.” I do my best to raise the corners of my lips, maybe in an attempt to make myself think Ali and I will be fine. “Thank you, Mister Jones.”

He gives me a warm grin, then he turns to Jughead. “You wanna help get the cots, boy?” Jughead lets out a long sigh, then he rises up from the table to meet his father. I quietly watch as the two Jones men head out of the trailer, into the quiet of this cold night. I could stay here in the kitchen and shiver under this blanket, or I could join Ali and Jughead’s mom and sister in the living room….what do I do now? Salem grumbles from his place on the floor, he’s still acting so antsy from earlier. Maybe he could use some human contact to calm him down. So, I get up from the chair, still having my blanket cocooned around me, and go over to where Salem nervously grooms himself. He mews in distress as I scoop him into my arms. I carry him over to where Ali sits on the couch, and by that point, he wriggles himself free from my arms. Mrs. Jones gets up the moment she sees me approaching, making room for me to join Ali. Looking down at Ali, I can’t help but feel that tinge of guilt again. Why didn’t I wake up? Why haven’t I told Ali the truth about Salem? Why am I feeling so guilty?

I take my place next to Ali on the couch. Jughead’s little sister is still glued to the other side, with Hot Dog sitting at the girl’s feet. Funny…..I think I hear Salem hiss at the dog the moment I look over. Maybe my mind is just playing tricks on me. I sigh and turn to Ali. “How are you holding up?”

Glancing at me over her shoulder, she shrugs. “I’ll get over it.” Then, she rotates to face me, and she brings a hand up to cup my cheek. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” I have to swallow a lump forming in my throat. Am I really okay? I mean, I had no physical harm, but regarding my mental state….

I tell her, “I should have woken up sooner. I should have heard something….” I sound so weak right now. I’m worried that I’ll wind up breaking down in front of her, that I’ll make this situation about me and not her. So, I clamp my mouth shut for the moment and glance down at her arm. It’s tightly bandaged and not so messy, but a small, cloudy red line where the slice would be underneath shows. I carefully bring my hands to hold onto that area, silently chanting the healing spell in my head.

“It should heal soon, honey.” Ali reassures me. “I’ll keep doing the healing spell on my own time, so don’t worry about doing it now.” She brings her hand to gently stroke one of my wrists. On the other side of Ali, Jughead’s sister shoots me a quick grin. The corners of my mouth lift…..okay, maybe this will get better overtime.

Jughead and his dad re-enter the room, both carrying in one cot, then another. Once they set the bedsets down, Mister Jones directs at Jughead, “Can you get blankets out of the closet?” Jughead nods, then disappears into the bedroom. Meanwhile, Mister Jones reaches for something else by the door. I don’t see right away what he’s holding, even after he shuts the door, but…..it's something that sparks Jughead’s mom to widen her eyes at him.

“You pulled out the rifle?” Ali and I both look down, and we’re both stunned to find Mister Jones holding onto a two-barrel rifle.

He sighs, then he moves into the kitchen. “It’s not loaded…..yet. It’s only in case that creep decides to come back.” He directs his attention to me next, “Hopefully this shouldn’t have to be used at any point in the night. Either way, you and Ali will be safe here.” I’ll admit, the approach is a bit extreme. Besides, Ali and I have magic, so we can fend for ourselves. Yet, I do understand the concern and the reasoning behind this, so I simply nod at him. 

Out of the corner of my eye, Hot Dog waddles over to Mister Jones, waiting to be acknowledged. Mister Jones sets the gun off to the side and bends down to run his hands through his pet’s fur. Speaking of pets….

Salem is off in the far corner of the room, still licking and moving around from one little patch of carpet to the next. Okay….something’s not right here. Now I’m really hoping Salem didn’t get caught in the cross fires between Ali and this intruder. I get up from the couch and wander over to him. “You okay, Salem? What’s up with you?” I go to reach for him, but he backs away.

“I’m alright.” I watch as he curls more into himself.

I cross my arms at him. “You obviously don’t look alright.” He doesn’t say anything in response, he just continues to pick at himself. I’m worried that if he keeps up with this behavior, he’ll have no fur left. Wanting to be cautious, I place one hand on him, then using the other to reach for his belly.

The attempt to bring him carefully into my hold is unsuccessful. He wriggles away and meows….in a very unusual manner. Like he’s in pain. “Watch it!” he hisses, collapsing into the palm of my hand. 

“What happened to you?” I whisper, hoping no one else in the living room will hear. “Did something, or somebody, hurt you earlier?”

“You want to put it like that….” he grumbles. I don’t know if I feel bad for him…..or if he’s putting on an act. Whatever the case, Salem might not be admitting everything to me. He eventually rises up, only to relax against my kneecaps, his head tilting up at me.

That’s when I notice a faint red and white line on his face, popping out from under his fur. I almost gasp at the sight, but I don’t want to attract any attention over to this corner. Instead, I lift my fingers and hover them over that little line. It looks irritated. It looks…...new.

“Salem, where did you get this?”

I’m not able to get an answer, because now Jellybean is down on the floor with me, examining Salem. “What’s up with your cat?”

I don’t know where to begin talking with this girl. I mean, I’ve gotten along with her so far, and she’s been so sweet and kind. But I have no idea if she is aware of my magic, and Ali’s. And I have no clue of how she’d react to the concept of a familiar sitting right in front of her. After a moment of contemplating my decision, I just stroke Salem’s fur while speaking to the girl. “Still shaken up after getting lost. But he’ll be alright.” She stays quiet, staring down at him. She doesn’t look happy or upset. She…..she just sits there in silence.

She looks up at me with curious eyes. “He’s special to you, isn’t he?” The question sounds confusing at first, what is she trying to get at? She follows up with, “Can you hear him? I mean…..does he speak to you?” I’m unable to say anything. I just sit there in shock at Jellybean. Wait…..can she tell that…..

Before I can register what Jellybean just asked me, Hot Dog starts barking at the door. He’s getting all anxious, which in turn makes Salem more irritable in his cozy spot. Mister Jones struggles to calm Hot Dog down. Jughead comes out of the bedroom, holding a stack of blankets in his head. Even he’s confused about the situation. What’s going on with the Jones’s dog? Is Salem’s energy feeding into him negatively? I mean, the barking is happening for no reason…..until there’s a knock at the door.

We all turn to the door in panic. Jughead remains frozen in his spot at the kitchen, I help Jellybean up from the floor as Mrs. Jones moves closer to her daughter. Salem releases a low-registered meow and hisses. I carefully pick him up and keep him in my arms as I scan the room. Mrs. Jones has a protective stance over Jellybean, and Ali….. Ali still sits on the couch, but her expression is displaying her fear. The knocking happens again, shorter this time. Who knows we’re in here? What could somebody want from the Joneses at this hour? Mister Jones silently raises a hand, reaching for the rifle with his other one. It’s not loaded, but if something happens, and he’s not able to properly use it….. He takes hesitant steps over to the door, ready to take stance with the rifle. He brings his hand slowly to the doorknob, not bothering to check out the little peep hole. The knob twists. The door flies open, he’s about to aim…… 

But he doesn’t. He goes from being shocked, to annoyed. He lowers the rifle and hangs his head with a sigh. “Damn it, Lodge. You scared the shit out of us.”

LODGE? Before I can comprehend the comment, Mister Jones steps back and lets the door fully open. A figure enters into the trailer, removing his hat. It’s Mister Lodge! Did he sense trouble from our trailer? Either way, I don’t feel so scared anymore. Behind him, V bursts in, searching for me. She spots me, and her face softens. 

“‘Brina! Are you okay?” With Salem in my arms, I make my way over to my friend, and V meets me halfway. I let her embrace me for a moment, then she glances down to acknowledge Salem. “Good thing you came back, _ pequeño duende _.” she whispers, cupping his face. V continues to converse with Salem, while I turn to see Ali rise from the couch. She looks relieved to see Mister Lodge…..and, I dare say, enamored. He doesn’t wait much longer before he leaves his place by the door frame, coming over to meet Ali. She hesitates for a moment, but she takes one step then another. The two collide into each other, Ali resting her chin on his shoulder while Mister Lodge cradles her in his arms. They stay like this for a little while, then they both move their heads, staring into each other’s eyes. Then, without a word, they gently tap their foreheads together, his hands caressing her face. 

I never expected Ali to exchange in this much intimacy with…..anyone. Well, anyone that doesn’t include me. I never even expected her to form such a bond with the Joneses and their daughter. I know she didn’t exactly have the best memories growing up with Mister Lodge, but seeing them together in this moment, seeing them not at war or at discomfort, but at peace….. I wind up grinning at the sight. Maybe this town has changed Ali, and perhaps for the better.

V places a hand on my shoulder, I almost forgot she and Salem were still here. “It was Daddy’s raven; it sensed something had gone wrong in your trailer. We just wanted to make sure that you were both okay.” I decide to stop watching Ali and Mister Lodge, and I turn back to V.

“No need to worry about us, Miss Lodge.” Salem addresses her with some irritability in his voice. “I don’t think any more intruders will be stomping through Sunnyside Trailers tonight.” I allow V to take a hold of Salem, cradling him against her. I almost open my mouth, to warn her to be careful with him, since he somehow got injured and bruised. But, he seems to calm down around V. He doesn’t appear so agitated. He’s behaving almost identical to the way he did when we found out she could communicate with him too. I still wonder how that’s even possible….

At some point, Jughead must have left the kitchen, because now he’s standing almost directly behind V. She practically jumps at the sight of him. “You’re going to have your comeuppance one day, I swear, _ Torombolo _.”

Jughead places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes at her. “I was only coming over to see if you needed anything.” he snarks. “Excuse me for simply trying to be polite and socialize.”

V faces him. “I think ‘Brina and I can handle ourselves over here. While the offer is chivalrous of you in retrospect, we don’t need you mansplaining how we should recover from such a traumatic event.” My eyes widen at V’s comment. Okay, I do agree that Jughead coming into the conversation was a bit unexpected, he wasn’t doing it with any cruel intention. I wonder if Salem’s negative energy is starting to affect her.

Jughead eyeballs me for a quick second, then he redirects his gaze to V. “So, am I not allowed to check in on my neighbor, and the only person at school who actually wants to help me with this Riverdale Reaper article?”

Salem growls as V scoffs. “Of course that’s all you care about, getting that high off of finding your next big breakout story.” Her voice is starting to pick up significantly. I turn away from V and Jughead’s discourse to find Ali and Mister Lodge staring at us. I glance back and forth at the two, unsure of what kind of vibe to give them in regards to V’s growing….. No, it’s not a temper. She’s not mean, she wouldn’t throw a fit just for the sake of throwing one. That’s not who she is. But the longer Salem stays glued in her arms, the more he remains miffed at everything, including me….

My vision blurs slightly. My focus begins to fade. I hear V continuing to berate Jughead behind me, “Did it even occur to you that Sabrina’s been busy with adjusting to her new life here? That she had to save NOT ONE, BUT TWO of our classmates from a maniac, and on top of all of that, she’s having to deal with Midge’s reign for our cheer performance this Saturday?” The mentioning of the cheer routine….. Midge….. I still haven’t told V about what happened? I haven’t talked to her since school….. She doesn’t know.

My mouth flies open. My voice croaks, “I…..I’m not….” I didn’t realize how loud my voice comes out until I see everyone in this trailer staring at me. A knot in my stomach grows, my hands shake. I repeat, “I’m not…..not anymore……”

I hear V slowly turning to me, “Not….. ‘Brina, what does that mean? What’s going on?” Her irritability has died down, but even with her concern, she sounds enraged. I can’t look V in the eye. I can’t look anyone in the eye. The room is spinning, the bad emotions that I managed with Ali are resurfacing. It feels like the walls of this trailer are closing in on me. There’s too many people in here, I can’t breathe. I need to get out of here.

I begin to stumble out of the living room. Mrs. Jones tries to reach out for me, calling my name. I have to back away, I don’t want anyone to get hurt from simply trying to help me. “I need to get some fresh air. I’ll be back….” my voice wavers. My eyes fall to the floor, to my feet, watching as they move over to the door, my hand fumbles for the door knob, the cold air hits me.

My path blurs, I’m flying down the staircase, about ready to hit the pavement, or the grass. My mind is like a black cloud. I’m trapped in the negative thoughts, the voice that haunted me earlier in the day are back and booming in my eardrums. And now, that voice sounds much more sinister.

** _You will inherit the power that those before you failed to grasp. You and Miss Lodge were meant to take charge. Let your true nature guide you, Sabrina. You can do better. You must do better. YOU WILL DO BETTER._ **

I collapse onto the cold, damp grass. My heart could fly out of my chest right now, it’s beating so fast. I squeeze my eyes shut and let my fingers run through the grass, just to help me focus on something else. The texture is cool and soothing. It’s practically dead silent outside, just the wind gushing through in the trailer park tonight. Usually I don’t resort to this if I have an anxious episode…..I’m not really one to have anxiety. I’m aware of how cruel it can be to mortals, I’m aware of how cruel it is to Ali. Why is it that being in Riverdale causes me to freak out like this? It only seems to be happening with Salem around…. No. I don’t want to focus on Salem now, or even Midge or anything else about school. Now, I need to get my heartbeat back down to a steady level. I need to ground myself again.

My eyes flutter open with water forming in the corners. Whatever voice keeps resurfacing in my head is now gone, or muted at least. My face is hot from the panic attack, and…… My nose is running. Slowly, I lift my hand up from the grass to the bottom of my nostril. Honestly, I’m not that surprised anymore at the sight of blood coming out. But, it still doesn’t make me happy. I flick my hand away and let out a huff. I’m too exhausted to be dealing with this. I don’t want to worry about my future. I just want to sleep. I want Ali to be okay. I want to be okay.

The blood continues to drip out of my nostrils. I keep wiping it away, making me even more paranoid and worked up, practically to the point of tears. I hear something rush up from behind me, the grass crinkles underneath whatever…...whoever is coming over to me. A hand comes onto my shoulder, a face comes into my view.

“You alright, new girl?” Jughead’s voice echoes in the quiet of the trailer park. I’ll admit, I’m relieved that it’s him. I wasn’t ready to confess to V about my day. I didn’t want to send Ali into another panic attack or breakdown. Yet, would it be worth telling him about…...me? About Salem? And V? About everything? Would he still be my friend? Or will he turn me away and panic the way…...the way Harvey……. 

I’m not able to respond to him, I just stare up at Jughead with a broken, tearful expression. He lowers down to my level on the grass, now placing both of his hands on my shoulders. “Hey….” he mutters, finally picking up on my distress. He speaks to me in a calm tone, “If Veronica and me fighting really upset you, it’s fine. We kinda cooled off a little. She wanted to go get you, but her dad told her to stay in, and…...and your aunt….” I faze out, not listening to the rest of his speech. I can see his lips move, but the sound is all a blur. So I did make everyone panic. Why do I always have to make a scene? Why can nothing go my way? I just want…… I NEED people to understand…. At this point, should I….. is it smart? Is it worth it….

“Sabrina?” Jughead calls my name. “You doing okay---”

“I’M A WITCH, JUGHEAD.” I blurt out. I watch as his mouth clamps shut, his eyes go from concerned to confused. Oh no, what did I just do? What did I allow myself to say? Well, there’s no turning back now.

I quickly move up from my place on the grass, standing over Jughead. I let my mouth run, “I’m a witch, and Ali is too! My whole family is full of witches! But I’m here not because of family trouble, but because I caused trouble! And V? She’s a witch, and so is her dad! Those books we found by your grandfather were hexed, that’s why you had those blisters! And Salem isn’t just a cat, he’s my familiar. He’s the reason Chuck Clayton was found dead in the woods! But….but I don’t know what’s wrong with him, and he’s been acting so strange. I think something about the Conway House affected him! That’s why I jumped in to help you so much with this article, Jughead. I need to find out what happened at that house so I can figure out how to make Salem better! But I don’t know what to do, and who to ask for help, and I’m too scared to ask Ali because I don’t want to upset her, and…..”

I eventually run out of things to say, so I stop talking. I mean, I could go on to talk about V and her condition, but I feel like I’ve bombarded Jughead with too much as it is. I look down at him…..his gaze is distant. There’s practically no emotion on his face. Did I make a mistake? Will this go down as another bad choice in my history of bad choices? Does this mean that…...that all that work I’ve done to help Jughead and Moose…..

I feel a tear fall down my face. My lips tremble. No…..no I can’t lose this friendship now. I know V is still my friend, and always will be, and I have Roz and Susie and Harvey back in Greendale…..but Jughead has been here since the beginning of my temporary stay. Jughead has supported me and helped me, even when he didn’t know everything. Jughead and his family have been so kind to me and Ali. And now I’ve screwed it all up.

In attempt to not break down in front of Jughead, I take a deep breath. I go to speak, to chant the memory removal spell, to say goodbye to the memories I had….

Then, Jughead speaks, “Okay, that actually makes a lot of sense now.”

My mouth hangs. I’m…..stunned, really. Me being a witch makes sense to him, after everything that’s happened since I’ve been here. So…..what does that mean? Is he okay with it? Is he creeped out? Will he expose me? Questions are circling in my brain, I’m just trying to make sense of the whole situation.

Jughead gets up from his place and wipes the grass stains off his pants. He begins to explain to me, “At first, I thought that you wanting to talk with Moose and not wanting to talk about Chuck were mere coincidences following their episodes. But….” he pauses for a moment. He sort of just stares at me, unsure of what to say, like how I don’t even know what to say. He sighs, then, with a small smirk, he says, “So, you can really do magic, huh?”

My nerves die down slightly. The corners of my mouth lift. Another tear comes down my cheek. So he isn’t angry with me, or terrified. What can I say? I’m over the moon.

“You don’t hate me?” I ask him, my voice cracking in the silence. “You don’t think I’m some strange girl that’s bringing you into a world of danger?”

He chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, Sabrina, I’m weird. I’m a weirdo. It’s part of my signature brand to not fit in.” He takes a moment to stare down at his shoes, bringing his shoulders up to his ears. He continues to hold onto that smirk as he says, “But….being weird is cool. I don’t get wrapped up in the unnecessary drama of stereotypical high school romances and what-have-you. Allows me to focus on…..what matters to me.” Jughead goes quiet after that. Maybe what V said about his priorities hit him. Well, I hope not. I don’t think he’s being stuck up or arrogant. He’s passionate about finding the Reaper, the way Archie is with his music, the way I am about learning about Salem.

I take a step closer to him and place a hand on his shoulder. He gives me a sad grin. “I don’t mind the loneliness. But…..I always wished someone could appreciate the mysteries I’m trying to unravel in this strange world.” Even in the dark, his face lights up at the next words. “You’ve kind of been the only person who does. You give a crap and you want to genuinely help.”

The compliment brightens my mood. I give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Does me being a witch hurt that?”

Jughead scoffs. “Hell no! I mean…..it would…..” Then, his melancholy expression fades. He lifts a finger and grins. “You said you had suspicions regarding your cat, right?”

I let go of his shoulder and shrug before crossing my arms at him. “Yeah. I think that house on Fox Lane did something to him. Whoever put him in there…..” I want to finish my sentence, but I don’t. I think part of me is too afraid to follow up, to admit my reasoning for talking in the first place. ** _Whoever put him in there must have had a good reason. _ **Instead, I tell him, with my confidence growing, “Whatever connects the Reaper to the current events, it has to be something supernatural. You know the history of this town…..but I have the craft we need to solve this. That is….if you want me to help you solve this. Do you?”

Jughead stays silent for a moment, staring down at the ground. nods. In that silence, I can’t help but wonder what could be racing through his mind. First, his dad gets attacked. Then, I run out during an interview with Moose. Now, Ali has an unexplainable slice on her arm. The news about my witchcraft is shocking, I mean, Harvey didn’t take it well. But I meant what I told him - my abilities could get us to a new level in this investigation. It can lead us to an answer.

Eventually, he looks back up at me, and he glows. “Sounds like a plan to me, Sabrina the Teenage Witch.”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

It’s going to take a couple of days for my arm to heal up. I could have used magic to seal the slice wound, but with my current state of mind, and even with Gladys and Hiram’s suggestion, it’s better for my arm to heal naturally. For now, I have it bandaged up, and I just need to be careful when doing any heavy duty work. I’m at least fortunate that I can still carry trays of food at the diner without causing the wound to open back up, or without making myself achy and sore. No one really has asked about the bandage on my arm, but when the question does pop up, I just tell people, “Clumsy accident in the kitchen.”

Even though I’m thankful to still be working in my condition, I can’t seem to stay focused on what’s going on with Pop, or the customers, or anything around the diner. My head still aches from having it tossed around and banged up. I have a slight red bump on the side of my forehead, but it’s nothing too significant. Even then, it throbs and makes me woozy, so I have to stay alert for that. Besides, I feel like I _ need _ to stay alert, watch the scene around me. He’s nowhere in this diner, not in this part of town, but it’s like his eyes are on me constantly. It makes my nerves act up. It makes my wound ache and leak out blood even more, no matter what soothing spells I mutter, no matter how many times Gladys or FP helps to wrap it up. On top of the uneasiness, there’s guilt and shame. I should have called out to Sabrina for help sooner. I shouldn’t have gone out in the first place. I should have told Sabrina about her name in that Book…..along with my own…..

For some reason, I also can’t seem to take my mind off of what I’ve been reading in those Riverdale history books. That one part about the Blossoms and Pickens keeps resurfacing in my conscious, it’s like that part of the town’s history wants to be known. There has to be a reason Hal killed Penelope and set fire to Thornhill, and it couldn’t have been because of me. And so far, I’m hitting a dead end with what I got.

It’s a little bit after 2:30, and JB just came over from school. Maybe while I’m finishing up, I can have her look over this information to see if she finds anything new. She looks to be in good spirits today, so I’m relieved. Poor thing’s been going through a lot lately, from getting her first period, to watching her father almost get slaughtered in front of her, to seeing me in pain. And with all that, she still remains kind and wanting to provide her services. She really does remind me of Sabrina back when I first met her….

By the time 3 o’clock rolls around, I’m able to clock out and change into more comfortable clothing. I shove my Pop’s uniform into my bag and head out of the restroom to join JB at her booth. The youngest Jones is hunched over the history book and a notepad, sipping contently on an Orange Freeze I made for her. The moment I approach her, she looks up and gives me a wide grin. “So, what did you find?” I ask her, setting my bag down and sliding into the booth across from her.

JB pushes her notepad over to me. There’s some shorthand scribbled onto the pad of paper, mostly questions about the content. I take some time to examine her findings as she talks to me. “Nothing too interesting. This chapter just drones on about these old people. They sound like jerks with lots of money.” I can tell by these notes that she’s bored. Old people, huh? Has she found anything on Rose Blossom?

“Okay….” I tell her, “Are there particular individuals that stand out? Key players in the building of this town?” I hate having to pry this information out of her. I don’t want to sound like Zelda, or heaven, even one of JB’s school teachers. Yet, if JB finds something that can aid in this hunt, she’s going to need to spill it.

JB sighs, then she thumbs through pages of the history book. She stops on one page then turns it over so I can see it. “Well, it’s not all boring.” JB clarifies. “There’s one section that keeps mentioning this one lady, this Blossom woman.” There we go, now we’re scratching the surface. The young girl points down to a photo of Rose Blossom, standing in the middle of a group of middle-aged men. I’ve seen this photo maybe once since beginning my research, but now the photo really stands out. Well, it stands out not only because Rose happens to be the only woman in here, but also because…..there has to be a reason Rose is in here.

“I also did some Googling on her.” JB all of a sudden whips out a tablet from her school bag. She gets the thing up and going so she can read off of it, “She sort of got her foot in the door with the whole witch-hunt thing long before the Reaper came through. But it was pretty much her family that funded the witch-hunts.”

I swallow a lump in my throat, Penelope’s words boasting her family’s glory replaying in my head. I croak out, “That’s what I’ve figured.”

“She must have a pretty strong will to live.” JB comments, shuffling around in her seat. Rose Blossom? Strong will to live? Huh, now that’s interesting….

“What do you mean, sweetheat?”

JB picks up on my growing curiosity in the manner, gaping her mouth open then closing it. She rotates the tablet in my direction and hands it over. She tells me, “Well, she was the only one to survive that fire. The one at the huge mansion on the other side of town. Did my parents not tell you about that?” Wait a minute…..fire? THE FIRE AT THORNHILL?

I finally reach for the tablet and scroll through the article. Surely enough, it’s covering the night that Thornhill burned down. It goes on to discuss how heartbreaking the matter is, or was, how Riverdale has lost a monumental element of the town’s history. The pictures alone leave me unsettled. Granted, they’re in black and white, but the outline of the aftermath makes this place look like a still frame straight out of _ Citizen Kane _. The words blur on the screen to me, I can’t keep concentrating on this. This event wasn’t heartbreaking, or monumental. It was terrifying. It was a warning from Hal. To me. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

_ The night Thornhill burned down happened to be within 24 hours of Hal possessing Hermione Gomez and crashing her car, with me inside. It all went down so quickly, I can barely piece together the details today. The night of Hermione’s disaster, I wound up staying with FP, not even daring to try and hunt down Hal. I was too scared to confront him, I thought I was too weak. It didn’t occur to me that Hermione was only the beginning of a dangerous rampage and bloodbath. _

_ I had no clue if Forsythe Senior or FP’s mom had come back to their trailer for the night, or even for the following day, it was so quiet in the Jones’s residence when I woke up the next morning. I felt like a zombie, my limbs felt heavy and achy. I felt like Lady Macbeth, going mad from the feeling of Hermione’s blood staining my hands no matter how much I scrubbed off the damned spots. My throat was sore from the sobbing the night before. To this day, I never understood how FP tolerated it all, how he stuck with me until I disappeared. He allowed me to stay in that trailer all day, and he stayed with me and kept me protected. Too bad I felt like I was endangering him. _

_ The day moved so slowly, I don’t even remember if I really ate much, if I had enough water. I wanted to tell FP the truth, to break down and confess to him about my witchcraft. Unfortunately, he didn’t learn all of that until it was too late, until long after Thornhill had become a skeleton, until I had to get Hal back into the Conway House. During that day, I spent so much time in my head, planning how I would break it all down to FP in a way he would understand. I think I spooked him a little, he feared that what I went through with Hal and Hermione had turned me mute. Eventually I would speak, but it was a repeat of “We have to stop Hal.” and “Hal’s going to do more damage. I have to find him.” _

_ FP didn’t understand at first. He just looked at me and went, “I should have known something was off about that son of a bitch. He weirded me out ever since he stepped foot into our school.” FP saw the situation so innocently, and I didn’t blame him. He only saw what Hal and I wanted the rest of the school to see - that Hal and I should be left alone. Yet, the more I look back on it, the more I realize that all it did was isolate me more from society. That it made me look like the real monster. _

_ FP took my hands and held onto them, looking me in the eye. “Ali, you can trust me. Please, did he do somethin’ bad to you? Did he force you into anything you didn’t want to do?” My tongue dried up in my mouth. He probably thought Hal had abused me sexually or physically. It wasn’t true…..but, Hal did hurt me mentally. So, I just nodded and hoped FP would get the point. He looked like he could cry, he hated seeing me hurt. “Okay, the next time I see that punk, I’ll pop his ass. Because, you deserve better Ali. You don’t have to suffer anymore, okay? You’re safe now.” I could have cried. I wanted to tell him that what he really needed to do was stay away from Hal, stay safe from his father, from the Serpents, from me. But I stayed silent. _

_ The day went on, bleeding into the night. I stayed curled up on that couch, numbly watching TV and going insane over what to do about Hal. Should I have killed him? Banished him from the town? Should FP have gotten involved? FP had wrapped me up in a couple of blankets to keep me warm, it was freezing in that trailer. My tattoo felt all irritated from when Hal tried to remove it. I couldn’t cry anymore. I just wanted to slip away into a mental abyss. Whatever show that had been playing cut to commercial break, showing stuff for house cleaners, new movies, something about Pickens Day. It was the whole Blossom family, Penelope included, speaking to the camera and encouraging whoever watched this poorly put-together advertisement to contribute to the fundraising for the stupid event. Frankly, I didn’t want to think about Penelope and her family. I didn’t want to think about anyone from school, not even Hiram. Yet, some part of my subconscious suspected that Hal could hurt anyone. Kill anyone. After all, he was on the loose, ready to kill for me. _

_ It was only a matter of seconds before my vision blurred, going from the television to a hazy sight of a girl screaming. Calling for her mother. The scream echoed in my head, amplifying the more whoever I saw was getting injured. It made my head ache. It made my nose bleed. I didn’t understand what was happening, who I was seeing, why they were getting hurt. It never clicked that I was seeing through Hal back then, that our bond had caused me to gain this second sight. But something about this Pickens Day ad made me come to a dangerous realization with what I was hallucinating. What I was hearing. Hal had gone after the Blossoms. _

_ “Ali? Ali, hey!” FP knelt down in front of me, causing my vision to disappear. My eyes widened at him, my nostrils were dry and bloody. My heartbeat quickened. My tattoo burned. The screams still echoed in my ears. Poor FP didn’t get what I had just experienced, he probably just assumed I was sick. He used the sleeve of his flannel to wipe my nostrils. He began panicking, “What’s wrong?” _

_ A tear rolled down my eye. “We have to go to Thornhill.” I rose up from that couch, almost falling over from the rush of blood in my body. I practically collapsed into FP, thank goodness he caught me. I couldn’t hear too well, but I guess he asked me why, what was happening. I clutched onto his arm, breathing heavily. “I’ll explain…..I’ll explain on the way. But…..FP, take me there. Please.” _

_ We were on the road in a matter of minutes. FP hesitated about the whole thing at first, but he eventually grabbed the keys to Senior’s truck and led me out to the vehicle. He zoomed out of the trailer park, flying down the road past Sweetwater River, going from the Southside to the richer part of the Northside of town. My hands were shaking the whole way over, I felt nauseated but I would regret it if we didn’t rush over to Thornhill. My skin itched and had a bubbling sensation. Like it was on fire. _

_ “So are you gonna tell me what the hell’s going on, Ali?” FP rushed his words. “You’re starting to freak me out.” _

_ “I think….” I began, unsure of where I would even take this conversation. “I think something’s wrong at Thornhill. The Blossoms are in trouble.” _

_ “Since when did you start giving a shit about them?” he scoffed at me. _

_ “It’s not that!” I protested, “It’s…..it’s….. FP, Hal is not who you think he is.” I went quiet and curled my legs up to hug them in my seat. The world passed around me when I looked out the windshield. I yearned for a simple life, a life where I didn’t have to deal with being a half-witch, half-Serpent. A life where I didn’t bring Hal out of that house. “I shouldn’t have met him on Halloween.” _

_ FP turned his head to me, his angry confusion fading into caring concern. “How did you meet him anyway? How did he even show up in our town without….” His voice dropped, he turned back to the road in front of him. Were we nearing Thornhill already? He didn’t say anything for a long time. The car reduced its speed. That wasn’t a good sign. I mumbled out his name, hoping he would give me an answer. He didn’t turn back to me, his eyes were glued on…. “Is that smoke?” _

_ Panic forced me to whip my head outward. My mouth hung in horror. “That….that’s coming out of…..” _

_ “Thornhill.” FP finished my thought. We looked at each other for a split second, then, FP pressed on the gas pedal, zooming over to the monstrous gates of Thornhill, where we last were just weeks prior. Black smoke poured through the iron gates. The sky above us was a violent orange, yellow, and grey. FP put the truck in park, I stumbled out of the vehicle to examine…. _

_ There’d be no chance in saving Penelope, or Clifford, or anyone residing in the Blossom’s Xanadu. What luxury resided in those halls were now engulfed in flames, turned to ashes. Smoke filled my lungs, but the taste of blood entered my mouth. My heart pounded in my chest, my body froze. Blood trickled out of my nose. Hal got what he came for. There was no chance of stopping him…. _

“Did that demon-ex of yours have any sort of grudge against the Blossoms?” JB’s voice pulls me out of my train of thought. The vivid memory of smoke, gasoline, and blood infiltrates my sense of smell. Once I regain my focus, my eyes trail up from the tablet to the young girl. I’ll admit, I’m a bit puzzled. I think she’s starting to notice, so she asks, “Is that why the place burned down?” A cold breeze blows through the diner, sending shivers through me. I wind up wrapping my arms around myself in attempt to warm up. Maybe I opened up a can of worms by having JB look into the Blossoms. This twisted family never played a good part in any of my history, and I certainly brought a downfall to theirs. Okay, I didn’t directly bring their downfall, but the deaths of Penelope and whoever burned up inside that house were intentional on behalf of me. After all, it was Penelope who sent me to Hal in the first place….

“No clue.” I shrug my shoulders at the girl, chewing on the inside of my cheeks. Now that I’m thinking so heavily about it, JB could have a point. There had to be a reason Hal sought the Blossoms, beyond the witch-hunts and the poor treatment of me. There has to be another motive. I release my hold and reach for my bag next to me. I start to get up from the booth, “But it could be a good place to start in our search.”

JB perks up. “You’re gonna take me to Thornhill?”

Oh. I guess I haven’t thought this whole plan out. My mouth hangs at the girl, unsure of how to handle this moment. I mean, I was planning on heading over to the library to dive deeper into the Blossom’s family history and to see what resources the library had. I had no intention of traveling over to that part of town….

I let out a long sigh. Guess it’s too late to turn back now. I check my surroundings at the diner, just to make sure no one is eavesdropping on our conversation. Then, I lean down and whisper to JB, “We’re going to need to be careful. And quick. It’s one thing to have the Sheriff come after me for this, it’ll be another if he goes after you, or if word gets to your parents.” The girl develops one of the biggest Cheshire Cat grins I’ve seen. She shoves her tablet and the books into her little backpack, then she climbs out of the booth to stand proudly next to me.

I gesture down to her nearly empty cup of her Orange Freeze. “You want a fresh one for the road?” JB nods and reaches for her drink, handing it over to me.

She talks more to me as we head over to the main counter, “It’s really good! I used to have them if I was staying with Mom at work, or if Dad was out of one of his AA meetings. But that was only a few years ago. I haven’t had one since then.” We reach the counter, and I set the cup down where Pop is cleaning off the counter.

“You want me to top the young lady off, Miss Beauchamp?” He smiles.

“That’d be great. Thank you.” I tell him, then I turn back to JB. There’s still one thing about her that’s lingering in the back of my mind. “If you need any herbal remedies to help with your….your uhh….”

“Oh, my period?” She fills in the blanks with a hushed voice. “I’m okay for now. Mom’s been sending me off to school with a bunch of pads and ibuprofen in case the cramps come up.” The way she phrases the whole thing makes me grin. It’s good that she’s being so upbeat about the issue. I pull her in for a little side hug and plant a kiss on top of her head. A few minutes pass, and Pop has JB’s refill ready to go. We both thank him then head out the door, the cold air greeting us as we make our way over to my vehicle. On the way out, I start to wonder whether it would be worth getting in touch with Hiram and see if he could join us. He might have more knowledge regarding the matter, after all he seemed to have frequent interactions with the Blossoms during his time at Riverdale High.

It may not get us an answer right now, but it’s worth a shot. I pull out my phone and send him a text, hoping he has the time to join us. I slip into the comfort of my vehicle, tossing my bag into the backseat. My hands grip the steering wheel. I’m not ready to go back, to face more memories I would rather much forget. My time at Thornhill brought me to Hal, it brought me to make that choice that drove me out of Riverdale. Who knows what would go down this time around, especially with JB sticking by my side? But I have to swallow my pain and my pride. I have to do this for Sabrina. For Veronica. For JB. And for myself.

“You need me to Google the directions?” JB pipes up before taking a sip of her Orange Freeze.

I wave her off. “I know where we’re going.” And with that, I take off.

The drive to Thornhill isn’t as long as I once remembered. Well, I spend most of the time talking with JB. I have to say, I’m lucky she’s here with me, otherwise I’d just be an anxious wreck. She tells me about how she has to write a book report soon, but it has to be a book she’s never read before. “I just don’t get why I can’t use one of my _ Oz _ books. Or even something Jughead has.” she pouts.

“I’m sure your mom and dad can help you find a good book.” I encourage her. I mean, I could lend her something out of my collection, yet again, I don’t know how a middle school on the Southside would handle an 11-year-old presenting a book report on kitchen witchcraft or demon hunting. Maybe Hiram would be kind enough to have the girl browse through his library, assuming he doesn’t still have a negative opinion of her.

I continue to quiz her as I make the turn to go down the street to Thornhill, “Does it have to be a fantasy novel, or can you use any type of genre?”

“Any type of genre, even non-fiction.” she replies. “I just prefer fantasy, or sci-fi. Better than real-world stuff. Although, some historical fiction and mystery is pretty cool, but that’s more up Jughead’s alley anway. He could live in the world of Sherlock Holmes if given the chance, or something food related.” I can’t help but giggle, the way she talks is so adorable. It allows me, for just a small fracture of time, to forget where we’re going, what I’m about to do.

The road winds up leading us straight to the gates of hell. Okay, it’s not the gates of hell for real. But arriving at the border of what used to be the Blossom Family estate gives off that notion. The atmosphere is eerie, fog rolls through the gates. A chill runs down my spine when I look up. Wow, this place sure has gone to hell since the fire. Just from peering through the gates in my car, the place looks uncared for, untamed. It’s like how the castle in the darker version of the _ Sleeping Beauty _fairytale appears before the Prince kisses her awake - it’s aged badly, and something has certainly rotted on these grounds.

I have to build up a little courage before I step out of the vehicle. The windchill kisses my limbs, the haunting gloom welcomes me and JB. I take a step forward towards the gates, then another. Flashes of Halloween from 1992 and the night of the fire replay in my head. My bones shutter with each step, I can see my breath form in the air. The scared younger version of me tells me to turn back around and run. She doesn’t understand why I would come back to this hellmouth, why I’m dragging myself more and more into the past. She begs for mercy, but I have to silence the inner child in me. It’s what’s best for JB and for myself.

JB joins my side, glancing up at the ominous gates slurping on her Orange Freeze. “Who knew the Blossoms lived in that house from _ Psycho _?”

I turn down to her. “Your parents let you watch that movie?”

“It’s a classic.” she mumbles. “Wow. This place is a lot spookier in person than I thought.” I don’t say it out loud, but I happen to agree with her. Thornhill looks much spookier now that it’s been abandoned and destroyed. “How did you find out about the fire anyway? Did that demon tell you?”

I shake my head, a little tinge of ache piercing with my movement. “I felt it, sweetheart. Your father…..he was actually with me that night. I felt something happening to the Blossoms, so he drove us out here. But…..” I turn my gaze back to the gate, peering through the gaps at the monstrous mansion in the distance. It feels so dead out here. I let out a puff of air. “We were too late.”

In the background, a bird caws. That’s odd, there’s practically no living creature out in this part of town. What could a bird be….. The cawing gets louder, it makes me look up and around. Eventually, a black figure flies above our heads, landing on top of the gates. I glance down and grin. Oh, it’s just a blackbird. Hang on…..something’s familiar about this creature. It turns to me and caws again. A weird sensation runs through me, like I can tell….

“What’s he trying to say to us?” JB pipes up.

Taking my eye off on this bird, I turn to JB, not really sure of why she would want to understand a bird’s caw. “Probably just chattery. That’s all.” The little black creature caws once more. This time, I start to gather a sense of…..language.

JB looks me in the eye, “I think he’s trying to tell you something. But….I can’t really understand all of it. Maybe because it’s in Spanish.”

My eyes go big. They dart back and forth between JB and…..

No wonder this bird looks familiar. It’s Edgar. Does that mean Hiram is nearby? Also…..how would JB know this raven…..

Before I can question her sudden knowledge of the raven speaking Spanish, the young girl whips her head behind her. Then, she gives a nod to something…..somebody…. “Wassup, wizard?”

The comment causes me to follow JB’s direction. Whatever tension that built up eases, I smile in relief. Hiram comes up the little hill, approaching us as he readjusts his gloves. He sees me and he glows. “I apologize if I kept you waiting long.”

My eyes go down to my shoes, I don’t know why I’m getting so shy around him. Then, I look back up with the corners of my mouth lifted. “You didn’t.” Hiram doesn’t acknowledge JB at first, he just whistles and gestures for Edgar to get off the gate. The raven lets out a squawk, then it flies back over to us, landing on Hiram’s shoulder.

JB snorts up at him. “You have a weird bird. You train all your other pets like that?”

Hiram loses the soft expression and rolls his eyes at the girl. “You get this inquisitive with every person you meet, Hobbit?” I watch as she shrugs her shoulders with a little smirk. He glances up at me, “Please tell me she’s going to be smart and stay outside of this place.”

“Jellybean’s here to help, Hiram.” I make an attempt to mitigate their little tension, “We’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry.” I decide to turn away and step forward to the gate. I’m only a few feet away from it now, I feel so small. I finally stare down at the chain binding the gate together. I’m actually surprised that there isn’t a “No Trespassing” sign hanging on it to scare intruders off. I lift my hand in attempt to reach out and touch the lock, but I freeze. Every instinct is telling me to go, to leave and never come back. My ears ring, my heart pounds out of control. I squeeze my eyes shut, taking unsteady breaths. 

I hear somebody coming over next to me. At first, I think it’s JB, but it’s not her aura I sense. I open my eyes and glance over my shoulder to the side of me. Hiram stares at me in worry, his bird no longer on his shoulder. His presence is calming, it provides warmth to protect me from this uncomfortable chill. He whispers to me, “Are you scared?”

My eyes go back to the nightmare waiting in front of me. Something, whether it’s the ghosts of Penelope and her ancestors or another frightened spirit, hums. It wants me to enter. It wants vengeance for what I let loose in those walls.

I mutter, “Absolutely terrified.” Gazing for so long at this place is beginning to drive me crazy, so I turn back to Hiram. My limbs tense up, yet my heartbeat slows at the sight of him. I don’t have to tell him much more, his eyes give away his understanding. He doesn’t need to tell me that he’ll keep me and JB safe, his presence alone provides that solace I crave. Without a word, without having to ask, our hands find one another, palm to palm, fingers interlacing. It’s a small gesture, but it’s enough to signal that we’re in this together. He’s with me, whatever happens.

We both direct our attention to the gate, each lifting our free hand. Together, we both use a nonverbal spell to undo the lock. The metal falls to the earth, the chain binding the gate together falling with it. The gate creaks open, a harsh whisper floats through the air. It’s haunting, but there’s no turning back now. 

I could take Hiram and JB in my car and drive up to the house. It could make the trip a bit quicker, and it could decrease our chances of facing trouble if anyone from the police, even Keller or that young deputy working with him, passes by. Yet, if I leave my car by the gate, it could be a bit easier to get out. Just in case something happens in this place.

Once the gate comes open all the way, I look over my shoulder at JB. “You ready, sweetheart?” The young girl slides her drink into the pocket on the side of her backpack, then she nods at me. She rushes over to my other side, providing me with more comfort. I turn to Hiram once more, confirming with one glance that I’m ready to go. He returns the gesture, then signals for Edgar to fly on ahead. I watch Edgar zoom ahead, leading the way.

That’s our cue to enter through the gates, officially embarking on our little journey.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

It’s hard to keep up with V as she storms down the school hallway. She’s all up in a blaze after I told her about Midge cutting me from the routine. It took me a good few minutes to keep her from placing a hex or using a voodoo doll to harm Midge. It didn’t help that Salem is just as irritated, he practically egged V and I on to do something about it. I don’t want to do anything, I don’t even want to think about revenge. At this point, it’s better for me to focus less on cheer and more on helping Jughead find the Riverdale Reaper.

“V, slow down!” I plea as I struggle to match her fiery pace. “Please, it’s not worth it!”

“I’d rather let hell freeze over before I let Fascist Barbie dictate who’s hot and who’s not!” She spits out. “I’ve had enough of Midge treating you so horribly, I won’t let her use her senior status to boss anyone else around! She’ll learn, one way or another, that I’m not a sheep. And neither are you!” The lockers blur around us the faster we trek down the hallway. I hate seeing V become this angry, I don’t need her to defend my honor. But the more she rants, the more I realize that this whole issue is affecting her than she’s letting on.

“Sheep? What’s that supposed to mean?” I pant, hurrying over to catch up with her.

V whips her head at me briefly. “It means she has no right to tell us what to do!” She turns away, focusing on the path in front of us. “And I refuse to fall under her command any further. I don’t follow the rules, I make them. And when necessary, I break them.”

The lockers fade away, the door leading to the girls’ locker room comes into view. V picks up her pace, stepping in front of me to get to the door. I have to hurry as well so I don’t fall behind. Besides, I don’t want to be too far away in case things between V and Midge become bad. Or worse, deadly.

With a violent push, she forces the door open, storming inside. “WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL, MIDGE?” The content atmosphere of the girls’ locker room disappears, conversations and laughter turn to agitated whispers. Midge stops her chatter with Ginger and Tina on one of the benches. She sees V and rises up with control, even glaring down at me for a brief moment. V recaptures the room’s attention, “You have some nerve to toss Sabrina off to the side like she’s nothing!”

“Veronica,” Midge says cooly, “what drama are you trying to stir now?”

V eyes me standing slightly behind her, then she takes my hand and pulls me to her side. “Sabrina should be in the routine! She knows the dance, I taught her! What gives you the right to kick her out now?”

From the bench, Tina snickers. “Geez, cool it, New York. She’s the new girl, of course she’s getting cut.”

Ginger jumps in, “Besides, Midge is only looking out for her safety and wellbeing.” My own mouth hangs at the comment. Midge told the other girls about my condition? Okay, well if the other girls were wanting to know of my whereabouts, that’s fine. Even then….

Midge stares down at me. “And I do. I care for each and every girl on this team like they’re my sisters, including you, Sabrina. Didn’t we agree on that yesterday?” I could spit acid. A small flame flickers within me.

I need to maintain peace, I can’t let myself cave to whatever rage I have, or to feed on anyone else’s anger. I shut my eyes, telling myself to breathe in Ali’s comforting voice. Smell the daisies, blow out the candles. Just like she said. Calm and collected, I mutter, “I didn’t agree to anything.” 

Midge’s face falls. I don’t really know if she’s angry at me, or if she pities me. But why should I suddenly care about her opinion of me? She’s the one who gossiped about my “sickly” state, and she tried to get me to question my friendship with V. I don’t want to care…...and yet, I do.

Then, Midge frowns, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, Sabrina, you poor thing. You’ve probably been so stressed out, or just recovering from your sickness, that it’s making your memory turn to mush. Have you gone to see the school nurse---”

V clenches her fists. She cuts Midge off, “That’s enough, Midge!” The room goes silent. Midge clamps her mouth as her eyes dagger over onto V. I watch as my best friend steps out, her heels clanking against the floor. I’m starting to panic a bit, only because if this situation gets out of hand….. I just don’t want V to snap. To let her anger fuel that darkness she hides. Her pearl necklace is hanging on her collarbones, yet I’m worried that it won’t do much to cool her rage.

She grits her teeth, “You want to call me the manipulative, selfish one, but I at least care about my friends. And I’m blunt about my feelings. So, do us all a goddamn favor and stop being fake. You call these girls your sisters, but do you really care? Or would you be willing to toss them away like you’re doing to her?” V lifts a finger and points it back at me. Around us, some Vixens gasp. Others whisper to each other in unease.

Midge goes pale. “I’m doing what’s best for this team.” She speaks in a composed, yet stern tone. “You know, Veronica, you should be grateful that I haven’t made the split second decision to kick you off of the team and make you turn in your uniform. I need girls with fire on my squad. You happen to be one of them. Your presence is actually necessary, and frankly, I don’t have the time or the energy to put stress on any of these girls to teach them your role.”

V looks back at me, her expression softening just for a brief moment. I swallow a lump building in my throat, and I do my best to have her read my gaze. My eyes are begging for her not to increase her anger. I know she cares about me, but it’s not worth the angry words. It’s not worth…..any blood shed. V returns her gaze to Midge, and she takes one slow step, then another.

Midge doesn’t let it on, but I can tell she’s growing timid. She backs away with baby steps the more V removes that space between them. Her tight fists shake with each step, her faint veins stand out in a dark purple….no, they’re black. V tells Midge, “It doesn’t matter what I bring. Sabrina and I come as a matching set. You want one of us performing, you’re going to let us both be on that field. And I won’t take “no” for an answer!” By now, Midge is about to smack into the lockers behind her. The other Vixens are paralyzed in their places, afraid to anger V even more. I have to put an end to this. It’s my problem, no one else should fix it. Not even V. I hurry over to her side and gently take her by the shoulders. I back her away from Midge, but that doesn’t remove or ease any of Midge’s now-apparent terror. 

It takes V a moment or two, then her fists unclench. The violent black veins fade back into their normal light-blue color. V trembles in my hold, her lip quivers a little. 

I go back and forth between staring at V, then at Midge. With guilt kicking in, I set my gym bag down on the ground, pulling out my uniform. “Here, just take it.” I stand back up and shove the clothing into Midge’s arms. Midge doesn’t know how to comprehend my sudden action. V mutters my name, but I keep going. “I….I don’t want to turn the Vixens against each other! I don’t want people to fight over something I started! Please…..” My voice cracks and pauses. I dart my eyes around the room. The Vixens are now clumped together, looking at the three of us. Tina and Ginger give me an odd expression, no one else offers to jump in and help. I feel so alone, even with V standing right next to me. Yet, I have to end this battle alone. I don’t want any more blood spilled for me.

I take a deep breath then continue, “No more war. No more blood. I’ve made my bed to lay in. The team’s better off without me anyway.”

Silence takes over. Midge looks remorseful, V is heartbroken. “No….’Brina.” V twists around and clings to me, weeping. I’m baffled that I started this. I made V upset, I made her a martyr in a battle I don’t think I’ll win. I watch as Midge stares down at my uniform, running through the fabric with her fingers. She steps away from the lockers, just inches away from me and V. She sighs, then brings her sights back up to me, then back to the girls behind us. She addresses the girls with composure, “If you’re not in uniform, go ahead and get changed. Everyone else, go to the gym. We’ll start practice in five minutes.” Behind us, the other Vixens shuffle around, grabbing their bags. A couple of minutes later, the locker room clears out, leaving the three of us in this Cold War.

V pulls away from me, wiping away her tears. Midge turns to her, “That includes you, Veronica. That is….if you haven’t decided to voluntarily give up your place on this team as well.”

I turn to V, unsure of how she will respond. I watch as she goes from saddened to outraged. She elevates her voice, “You’re in for a rude awakening, Midge Klump! I curse the day you ever became HBIC of the Vixens. I hope the world will start to see you for what you really are, and I hope you get your comeuppance. A reckoning, if you call it that.” She glares Midge in the eye before muttering, “Maybe that reckoning…..is me. You wanted fire? Sorry, Midge…...my speciality is ice.”

With that, V whips her head and storms away, not saying a word or making a sound. I hear the door leading to the gym slam shut, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I made Midge attack V, and vice versa. I tore the Vixens apart. I’m fighting back tears, but the truth keeps punching at me, making me more unstable.

I hesitate before I turn back to Midge, studying me with no emotion. My eyes go down to my feet, at my opened bag. My head hangs. At this point, if Midge doesn’t want me on the Vixens, I wouldn’t get upset. Maybe it’s better that way. I state with a dismal huff, “Just say it, Midge. You won’t hurt my feelings.” I wait for a response. But, I’m greeted with uncomfortable silence. Is Midge trying to find the words to say? To gracefully let me go from the squad? What’s taking her so long to respond back?

Another moment passes, then I hear Midge come over to me. I spot her shadow on the floor. Then, my uniform appears in my view. Wait….. I bring my gaze up and to the side. I’m stunned, and…..I’m confused. Midge isn’t yelling at me to get out. She’s holding out my uniform to me. “You should hold onto this.” 

My mouth flies open, my limbs freeze up. So….am I not getting asked to leave the Vixens? But didn’t I give up my place? Didn’t I cause V to lose her temper? Midge picks up on my stillness, I can’t tell if she’s getting annoyed or if she really does have an ounce of worry for me. With control, she gestures down to my gym bag. Does she want me to put my…..the uniform back into my bag? I don’t bother to ask the question, I just grab it from the floor and sling it back over my shoulder. Midge carefully returns the clothes into my unsteady hold. I stand there dumbfounded with the stitching of the letters scratching the flesh of my wrists. 

“I meant what I said, Sabrina. You can still be out on the field with us this weekend. In fact, if you’re up for it….” she pauses midway and lets out a huff, “You should be ready to sub in….just in case.”

Sub in? Wait….does that mean….. Midge steps around me, heading over to the other side of the locker room. “Don’t share this with anyone else, but I need to determine what to do about Veronica.” She twists on her heels and glares down at me. “Her behavior lately has been absolutely uncalled for. I’m only allowing her to stay in the routine for now just because we need her. Plus….” she pauses for a second to drag out a long breath, “I don’t think I want to deal with the wrath of Daddy Warbucks Lodge if she throws a hissy fit to him.”

I say nothing in return. I’m shocked, really. By this point, I know V would never run crying to her father. She’s one of the most independent people I’ve met. She would rather resolve a problem herself before Mister Lodge steps in to clean up the mess…...if he ever found out about the mess. I can’t say anything back to Midge, I’m disgusted by this. I’m…...I’m guilty, because I instigated this.

Midge, noticing my state of distress, steps in towards me. “You’re kind, Sabrina. Too kind, I hate to admit. Riverdale is a nasty place for kind people like you to get hurt. To get manipulated by people like the Lodges. Like Chuck Clayton. If you take anything away from this conversation, at least listen to this piece of advice, from one woman to another….” She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze, then she says, “Learn to speak up for yourself. Develop a backbone. Otherwise…..this town is going to swallow you whole.”

I feel a tear fall down my cheek. My fingers curl into the fabric of my uniform, practically to the point where I could crumble it into a ball. Midge lets go of my shoulder and shoots me a sad smile. “Take care of yourself, Sabrina.” She leaves me standing in the middle of the locker room, silently grabbing her gym bag from the bench and slipping out through the door.

More tears come down, I can’t stop crying now. I’m all alone, Ali and Salem are not near me, Jughead is probably too busy to deal with my concerns, so is Archie, maybe Moose. I haven’t felt this alone since…. Since….

I back up into the set of lockers behind me, shaking as I glance down at my uniform. This was my one chance at normalcy. This was my opportunity to expand my boundaries and befriend other girls my age. Mortal girls my age. And now I’ve jeopardized V’s reputation and place on the Vixens. I have the girls worrying over Midge’s reign. I caused this to happen.

I bring my uniform up to my face, to muffle out my scream. My back slides down the tiny metal doors. I come to a curled up seating position on the ground, sobbing into my uniform. I bring my head up, my cries echoing in the empty room. I hate Midge. I hate the Church of Night. I hate Auntie Z and Hilda. I hate Chuck Clayton. But above all, I hate myself. 

I glare up at the ceiling and wail, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?” 

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

I forgot how steep this hill up to Thornhill is. I’m doing my best to not huff and puff as I make my way up. JB has zoomed past Hiram and me, skipping up this hill with so much energy. She’s also whipping out her phone and recording her trip up, maybe just so she can post it on YouTube later or probably to make her older brother jealous. I think I’m getting used to the slow pace. I can better adapt to this cold weather, and I can keep a better eye on my surroundings…..just to make sure Hal isn’t lurking around anywhere on this property. Also, it’s kind of nice to be walking hand in hand with Hiram. I know it sounds utterly ridiculous, but it really comforts me that he came by to help. And…..and some part of me just wanted to see him. To be around him more. I know he and Veronica came over to the Jones’s trailer last night, and they stayed with us for a while, but…..why is it that I want more alone time with him? What about Hiram is making me change my outlook on interacting with others? On…..being involved with someone else?

I’m so distracted that I don’t pick up on him making conversation with me. “Is it feeling any better?” I stare at him blankly for a solid second, only to realize he’s glancing down at my arm. My bandage is showing through my jacket.

I decide to be truthful and honest, “Stings every once in a while, but it feels a whole lot better. I’m loading up on as many herbal remedies as I can brew.”

“Good.” The corners of his mouth lift, but only for a moment. Then, they fall as he lets his eyes wander around the Blossoms’ property. That’s odd….Hiram really wasn’t the type to get flighty or even distant. Yes, he’s quiet and reserved…..but not like this.

“I really am alright, Hiram.” I reassure him, giving a gentle squeeze to his hand. “And I…..” I have to stop myself quickly and organize in my head how I want…..how I need to carry this small talk. “I really appreciate you and Veronica dropping by last night.”

It takes a bit for him to bring his gaze back to meet my own. He looks exhausted, his eyes are…..a glossy pink. Like he’s about ready to cry. “Oh….” he states, sounding a little off guard, “It’s….I….” He stammers on his words, and now I don’t really know what could be causing him to get all worked up like this. Eventually, he gives up and huffs, staring down at the pavement below. With a weak voice, he mutters, “I went to Hermione’s grave….before I came here.”

I almost stop dead in my tracks. I can feel my heart detach from my lungs and fall into my stomach. That’s why Hiram looks all agitated and out of place. Questions formulate in my head, and they want to spill out of my mouth, but I have to hold it back. I need to ask them to my brain. Is she buried here? In New York? Did the Church allow him to hold a proper funeral for her? 

Well, whatever I hope to dig out of him might be showing through my expression, because he says, “I’ve been going over more frequently than I would like to admit. I just want to make up for time lost, for words left unsaid.” 

“Has Veronica gone with you?” I’m careful to phrase my first question, I feel like I’m treading in unsteady waters here. Hiram frowns and shakes his head.

“Only one time. More often than not, I go by myself, I fear of upsetting Veronica. Especially since she was so young when….” Then he gets quiet again. Whatever caused Hermione’s death has not treated him kindly…..either that, or he may not be so forgiving to himself for losing her. But I still…. I spent so long letting the night of that possession and car accident plague my mind. I hate what I had to do to her, but it was the only way she could live. It was the only way, at the time, I could reverse the wrong Hal instigated. So, maybe just for my own sanity, and for my own curiosity, I want to know….

Hiram slows down his pace. He frees his hand from our hold, clasping his hands together sheepishly. The silence between us draws out, I guess he’s taking time to map out his story. Or maybe he’s caught thinking about other things. Either way, it wouldn’t be wise, or kind, of me to play Nancy Drew and unravel that information without his consent. He wouldn’t do that to me….

With carefully chosen words, the tale begins: “You’re probably wondering what happened, and I would rather not leave you in the dark. I’ll reassure you, she wasn’t murdered, and she didn’t commit suicide…… It was merely an unfortunate accident. One that fell beyond anyone’s control, including my own. Hermione wanted to be a good mother, the best mother she could. Her infertility never stopped her from having that wish. So, when Veronica entered our lives, she did all she could to give Veronica that motherly care, that nurturing.” He slows down the pace of his telling, taking breaths in between each phrase. His hands shake, I don’t think he wanted me to pick up on it but I do. I listen carefully as he starts to get serious, “It happened before I came home from work, back when we lived in New York. Hermione had sent whoever had been on staff home for the day, she wanted to have more time alone with Veronica. Usually, one of the staff would give Veronica a bath in her infant years. That day…..Hermione did it herself.

“Everything was going as it should. Hermione washed and cleaned her, Veronica splashed around with her favorite toys. At some point, she must have decided to give Veronica a haircut, her hair always grew in fast. She grabbed a pair of scissors and began trimming…..” The lighthearted expression on his face fades, the hope disappears. His hands tremble more significantly than earlier. He stares off into the world in front of him, not saying a word at first.

After a good period of silence, he says: “The scissors slipped from her hands, into the tub. It gave her a nasty cut, very similar to your own. She didn’t want Veronica to accidentally hurt herself if she were to grab them, so…..so she leaned in…..and….and….” His pauses, making tight fists. In this moment, I swear….he could break down and sob. He chokes out, “I wanted to bring her back, I tried. But I didn’t want to put more pain into her life than what she already encountered. I didn’t want Veronica to believe that she caused the accident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, there wasn’t anything I or anyone else could do. Besides….the Church…..and my family…..”

What comes out of his mouth next startles me, especially since he sounds so broken. “I could not attend the funeral - I was forbade from going. Her family had the right to bring her body back here, to Riverdale, so they could bury and mourn her. Believe me, I begged the Church to give me time to grieve, to pay my respects. By that point of my place in the Church, acting as my father’s apprentice with Lodge Industries, I had too much at stake, but I didn’t care. I fought hard, and my pleas were silenced. It’s why for so long I lost my desire to rebel against the ways of the Church. My anger turned to forced loyalty with the Church, to my family’s business. And I blamed myself. My father…..he told me the day Hermione’s corpse went back to Riverdale that it was my fault. He said, _ You have disgraced the name of this family with the Church. Your betrayal to our kind has exposed our presence, and now it has cost the life of the one you called _ ** _su esposa_ ** _ . This is your punishment. You chose that mortal over the Church. Over blood. My own son. _”

He stops speaking all together, he freezes in his place and trembles. And I thought my own father was an asshole, as was Forysthe Senior. But what Hiram endured, what words he has engraved into his mind…..it’s horrible. It’s heartbreaking. But it explains so much of…..why he has become what everything believes. He’s not some coldhearted selfish monster. He’s not…..and he needs to know that. I have to let him know…..I need to give him that care he once gave me.

So I stop in my own tracks and place my hand on his shoulder. “Hiram….” He glances down at me, his emotions no longer hidden under a confident smirk or a cocky poker face. He’s vulnerable now, and he’s becoming vulnerable for me. The way I was for him. Without hesitating a moment longer, I pull Hiram into me, holding him in a warm embrace. I feel his shaking ease when he buries his face into my shoulder, curling his fingers into my hair. Before, this little act of kindness would sound so foreign to me, it would sound unnatural. And I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to do the same for me, unless it was Sabrina. But things are different now, my worldview has changed. Hiram and I need each other. We deserve forgiveness, we deserve friendship…..maybe even love.

I eventually pull back, holding his face into my hands. I tell myself, _ Daisies and candles _, then I make my point loud and clear. “What happened to Hermione was NOT your fault. Do you understand me? You are NOT the reason for her death. You loved her so much, Hiram. You are a good father, you’re doing all can for Veronica. And….and….” At this point, I begin rambling out of pure emotion. My words come from my heart, “And I’m sorry, I know family means everything to you, but…..your father is an absolute piece of fucking shit. You are not a disgrace. And you are not a traitor. You…..you are a good witch, Hiram Lodge. You’re one of the best I’ve ever met.”

His face softens in my hold. The anxiety that manifested in his eyes fades away. The nervous frown rotates into a small grin. I think this might be the first time he’s heard those words, that he’s had that affirmation of his good deeds. And I mean everything I say - he’s helped me far more than any of the Spellmans combined. Or anyone from the Church quite frankly. I have come so far with this hunt with Hiram by my side, and I am grateful for it. And now, he is aware of it.

For extra good measure, I throw in, “Hermione would be proud of you. For what you’ve done for Veronica.”

His voice is low-pitched, yet soft, when he asks, “You think so?” I grin myself, and I give him a confident nod, stroking one of his cheeks with my thumb. His breath blends in with my own, his dark eyes melt into mine. It makes me forget that I’m entering into a nightmare from my past. It’s comforting. It’s warm. It’s….a bliss.

“Are you two done making out down there?” The sudden incoming of JB’s voice breaks our moment. I almost forgot she was here with us. How long has she been waiting? Well, now I’m kind of embarrassed, to say the least, and Hiram is miffed again.

I let go of his face and lift a finger, as a way of telling him to hang on. I turn my head and yell out to JB, “Everything alright, sweetheart?” There’s no response for a few seconds, leaving me a bit worried. How far ahead did JB get? 

She finally pipes up, “Uh….Aunt Ali, we may have a problem.”

Hiram shuts his eyes and grits his teeth. “Lucifer, give me the strength to deal with this child.” I take his hand, and we both hurry up the hill in hopes of finding JB. It’s crazy to believe I’ve mostly only been here in the nighttime, and even then I believed it was spooky. It’s just as equally frightening during the daytime whizzing by these hedges. We both spot JB standing in the middle of the driveway, glaring upward. We let go of one another and move closer, each of us standing on one side of the girl.

I don’t take time to scope out the area before I ask her, “What exactly is our problem?”

She doesn’t engage with me head-on. She remains looking up, then she lifts her finger. “That.”

That’s when I turn to see where JB has come across our obstacle….well, more like our block in the road. Thornhill has practically fallen in on itself due to the destruction. The windows are broken, revealing the decaying insides of the mansion. The roof has holes from the fire. The whole place rots of mold and ashes. There’s caution tape and a wired fence blocking the front door, as well as the front of the house. Whatever Hal did to this place, he made it horrid.

I sigh, “Nothing ever comes easy, does it?”

“I’m surprised no one has dared to renovate or fix it up.” Hiram comments. I could laugh - imagine if someone did try to pull a Chip and Joanna Gaines on this place. It’d romanticize more of who the Blossoms were, instead of the monsters they truly are…..were. Renovation…..the more that I think about it…..

I whip my head over to him. “Doesn’t your family’s business specialize in construction and design?”

“Not quite.” he responds. “Lodge Industries is more geared towards gentrification. We build neighborhoods and business centers, not private getaways for the Riverdale elite. Besides, I don’t think my father would have ever wanted to work on a home meant to be resided in by mortals, especially witch-hunters. Despite my mellow acquaintance with Penelope, he loathed the Blossoms. He….” Then Hiram stops talking. At first I don’t quite get why, but then I hear a clicking. And more clicking. We both look down to find JB snapping photos of the place on her phone. My guess is she’s probably getting pictures if we need to call back any details later. But I don’t think Hiram sees it that way.

Doing all he can to not lose his temper, he directs his attention to JB. “What…..are you….doing?”

JB pauses midway through photo taking and shrugs at him. “Getting photographic evidence. Duh.” The answer doesn’t seem to please him, he still looks miffed. I’m about to step in, to hopefully defend the girl’s honor, but JB does the work for me. She faces Hiram and speaks to him with a powerful stance. “There could be a clue or a missing piece Ali’s demon-ex-boyfriend left behind. It may not pop out at us now, but maybe we could see it later. That’s why I’m taking photos. I just want to capture something we would easily miss by staring at it in person.” 

I must say, this girl has a backbone to her. I’m impressed. Hiram goes to open his mouth, then closes it. The annoyed expression morphs into…..an expression of being outsmarted. His hands go to his hips, his gaze is not as harsh.

He tilts his head slightly, letting out a huff. He tells her slowly, “That’s….a reasonable approach, I suppose. One I didn’t consider earlier.”

For a moment, JB glances over at me. Her eyes light up, her smile exposes her teeth. She knows she just won this argument, and I can’t help but be happy for her. I give her a little thumbs up before she turns back to Hiram. She crosses her arms and lifts her head up. “And you thought I wasn’t going to make this easy for you, huh, wizard?”

His eyes flare up again. She starts giggling. He looks to me for help, but I just wind up holding back laughter. I think he’s starting to get used to JB’s fierceness. But he doesn’t want his pride to be wounded just yet. He glances down at the girl and points a finger. “Don’t get your hopes up yet, Hobbit.”

I could continue to watch this little banter between the two, but we came to Thornhill for a reason. Some part of the residence has to be open to the public. JB is right - maybe we’re not seeing the answers right in front of us. That’s why I start to glance around at the front of the house, panning slowly from side to side. No open spaces pop out so far, no secret leadways to backdoor entrances, no holes in the garden walls….. 

Wait. My eyes wander over to my left, eyeing a little hedge frame covered in roses and thorns. I think I saw this briefly when I came for the Halloween party, but I just brushed it off, or probably didn’t remember it. Did Penelope ever talk about this? Or was I not paying attention?

“Alice?” Hiram calls out my name. I’m still staring at this mysterious garden wall, wondering how on earth this didn’t get destroyed along with the rest of Thornhill. Maybe Hal did leave something here after all. And whatever it is waiting for us on the other side, it could lead us to him.

I start to make my way over to the area, briefly glancing back over at Hiram and JB. “You two go check out that way for a public entrance. I’m gonna….” Then my voice trails off the more I wander over to this strange rabbit hole. It’s breathtaking to look at, I’ll give the Blossoms that credit. Whoever has come over the years to maintain this little bit of vegetation knows what they’re doing. Yet…..something doesn’t feel right about all of this. Like it’s too perfect and too well-kept.

I keep looking over my shoulder to make sure that JB and Hiram know what I’m doing. They simply watch me go farther and farther away, and eventually, he leads her over to the over end of the mansion’s front. I would take the girl with me, I’d even bring Hiram along just for good measure. But I don’t know what I could face in here, and who knows what kind of traps have been set up. The Blossoms were witch-hunters after all, and I bet Penelope is throwing a fit in her grave that I’m walking all over her property.

The entrance to this little getaway appears more open, more brighter the closer I approach the area. The roses blooming on the curve of the upper lip glows a bright red against the decayed greenery. Snow starts to land on the petals, I almost forget that winter has begun. I hear a whispering coming from whatever lives inside, an echoing chorus of laughter. For a moment, I swear it’s JB running up behind me. It causes me to turn my head. But JB isn’t there. And neither is Hiram. I have to remind myself that I’m alone in this battle, as I have done the ones before. I look back up at the beckoning greenery, the opening walls, waiting for me to enter. Now I know I have to go in alone.

Like Alice entering the Queen of Hearts’s rose garden in Wonderland, I step through the threshold. I half expect a woodland spirit or a wild animal to jump out at me. But nothing appears. Not a living soul resides in this garden. Well, what can I say? It’s not even a garden at all. It’s a graveyard. There’s tombstones for…..every single Blossom that has resided here. Roses bloom in thorny vines and bushes. Trees tower over the tombstones, which happen to be clean and glistening despite the debris. It’s so quiet and peaceful, and yet it’s so eerie. There’s Blossoms from the early turn of the century buried here, going down the row as time goes on. I have to tip toe my way around the place, worrying that some ghoulish zombie of a Blossom could shoot their arm up and grab at me. Well, what do I technically have to worry about? I have magic to defend myself. I could send all the Blossoms into a place lower than six feet. The dates become more recent, the names sound more modernized. Then I spy a tombstone at the end of the row. One name striking out at me in particular.

So Penelope and her brother, Clifford, were buried here. I shouldn’t be feeling any remorse, I hated her guts and I always hoped she’d get her last dessert. But not like this. It shouldn’t have been Hal ripping her up and burning down her home. It shouldn’t have come to that, but it did. Thornhill is no more, and now the Blossom Family graveyard has two more permanent residents.

I meander my way over to where Penelope has been laid to rest. I wind up staring down at this plot of land. Grass has grown over the lump in the ground. Some fresh flowers lay on the marble, but the petals are browning due to the cold. I guess the world has long forgotten about the former Queen of Mean at Riverdale High. The time period listed under her name makes my stomach churn. 17 years. That’s how long she was alive. 17 years, all to get murdered and scorched by a malevolent…. Because I hated her. My rage towards her caused this to happen. Hal acted out to please me. So, in a way, I killed her.

No, I need to stop thinking like this. I didn’t do anything. _ But you did. He did it for you, Alice. _ Sometimes I wish my brain could go silent, permanently. 

I take a huff, then….I start talking. “Hey, Penelope. Long time, no see.” I lower down so I’m at eye level with the tombstone. I never thought I’d be having a full-length conversation with somebody six feet under, let alone someone I never got along with in high school. Penelope just happens to be crossing off both on the list. What do I even say? I’m sorry for leading you to your death? What would allow me to have that closure?

“This place is kinda nice.” I try to lighten up my mood, maybe even throw some flattery in Penelope’s direction. She always found it a boost to her ego whenever someone flattered anything related to the Blossom property, or just anything Blossom-related. I take my eyes off her tombstone for a moment to examine the rest of the Blossom manor outside these garden walls. “Practically the only part of Thornhill untouched by the damage. It’s a shame…..really was kind of pretty.” I’m speaking in full honesty here….as much I disliked Penelope and her clan, I always envied her life. Well, some part of me did at least want that luxury, the wealth, the….sense of a somewhat functioning family.

I bring back my gaze to the grave. “Look, I didn’t ask for this to happen to you, or Clifford, okay? Yeah, I mean, you were a horrible person and a bully, but…..” At this point, I need to reel it back. I’m letting my anger get to me. I’m…..I’m letting the younger version of myself dictate my actions. The past is in the past, and I have to leave whatever strong grudge I held towards the Blossoms disappear.

I force myself to breathe in and out a couple of times before I talk again. “Your end should not have come from this. You at least deserved some redemption. You deserved the chance to become a better person, pursue a career you had interest in, maybe even become a mother yourself. You should have been given those opportunities….” My throat gets dry. My eyes get all misty. I don’t even know if I’m shaken from the cold or from my own emotions. Either way, I can’t shake off this sudden funk. Penelope Blossom made my life miserable, but she was just a high schooler. She was human, she made mistakes. She deserved to have a better future, the way FP and Gladys have made theirs positive, the way Hiram did. She had the chance…..but it’s me who’s living, and not her. 

My cheeks are hot, water forms in my eyes. I hear my voice crack, “But we can’t change the past, can we?” I curl my fingers in, but I have to be careful not to dig my nails into my palm. Inflicting pain onto myself won’t solve anything. Crying won’t help me make amends with a childhood bully. It’s all dead and gone. I might as well end my visit on good terms. I stare down at my hands, guiding them together in a leisurely manner. My palms touch, I close my eyes and concentrate on creating something comforting to leave behind. Something that will put my mind at ease.

A stem grows between my palms, petals bloom through my fingers. I open my eyes and stare down. A white tulip sits on my flesh. I take the stem between my fingers and twist it, taking in a big inhale. I lean forward on my knees, bringing the tulip closer to the tombstone. “Someday….I want to find my peace. I…..I just hope I can.” My knees hit the wet grass. My knuckles graze the stone. I rest the tulip down while saying, “I hope you find yours too.” 

Everything goes bright, then dark. My hands go to the earth to keep myself from falling over. My heart pounds out of my chest, I can’t breathe, I can’t see well….. Orange and yellow sparks fall around me in slow motion. The area smells of blood and gasoline. And smoke. I finally realize I’m no longer in the graveyard. I’m in Thornhill, reliving the night of the fire.

The scene escalates in slow-motion. Walls crumble to ashes. Paintings melt, erasing decades of Blossom history. A scream echoes through the crumbling mansion. Am I dreaming? Am I just hearing voices? I can’t process what’s happening until I catch a glimpse of red hair float past me. I watch as this figure flies down the stairs in slow motion, not able to escape her horrid fate. The girl wails, the same as she did when I heard her years ago, “MOMMY! HELP ME!”

“Penelope?” I call out, but she doesn’t hear me. My legs feel like they’re stepping out of quicksand. I move one foot then another, I go to reach out to Penelope. I call her name out again, “Penelope?” I reach my hand….. That’s not my hand. It’s someone else’s. Penelope turns her head to….whoever it is behind me. The hand digs its nails into her nail, it pulls her away from the staircase. She disappears with a scream. A pit falls in my stomach. I don’t have to turn my head around to know who it is behind me.

“No….no no no.” I mutter, shaking my head. The heat intensifies around me. But this isn’t real. It’s just a flashback. But how did I get here? What’s happening to me? “You’re not here. This isn’t happening. This isn’t….”

“Oh, but it did.” he snickers. I’m frozen in my spot. “You were the one who wanted her gone. Aren’t you satisfied?” I don’t want to look back, I don’t want to see what he did to end Penelope’s life. No matter how much I fight it, no matter how bad I want to break my feet from their place, bolt down the stairs, and get out of this nightmare, my head still rotates to….

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. I can’t even bring my hand up to cover it like Mia Farrow finding out her baby is the Antichrist. But this isn’t the Antichrist I’m laying eyes on. Hal cradles a ripped up, bloody Penelope in his arms, releasing his teeth from her neck. Her eyes aren’t even closed, it makes her death much more horrifying. He tilts his head at me, “I did it for you, Alice. Everyone we killed hurt you. They didn’t make you happy. But I did.” 

I stumble back, I have to get out. I have to get away from him. “Come on, wake up, Alice. Wake up, Alice.” He stands up straight, letting the body drop to the floor with a thud. He steps on the body, breaking a multitude of bones under his foot. I’m not looking as to where I’m going, so I don’t know if I’m going towards the hallway or down the stairs. Blood drips from his mouth, his teeth glow in the burning light. I repeat my mantra, “Wake up, Alice. Please!” Something falls behind me, it’s probably a beam from the roof. But Hal won’t let me alone, and I can’t snap out of this. My ankle hits whatever just fell behind me, I lose my balance. Hal looms over me as I fall backward….

My back hits the wet grass, my breath is visible in the cold air. I’m not in the burning walls of Thornhill anymore, I’m back out in the graveyard, in reality. The flames are traded for falling snow. The heat turns into cold. I look out in front of me, out at Penelope’s grave. The tulip I created disappears in a flame. Guess there’s no hope for peace between the Blossoms and me after all.

“AUNT ALI?” JB calls out from somewhere. I glance around all over the place, trying to get back my sense of surroundings. “ALI? WHERE ARE YOU?” A random wave of pain rolls through me. I wince, and I glance down at myself. Of course I tripped over a damn tree branch while hallucinating. There’s a minor scrape on the back of my ankle. I bless under my breath while pushing myself upright, then I raise my voice, hoping JB and Hiram can find me. “OVER HERE!” I bring my ankle closer to me and place my hand over the wounded area, using nonverbal magic in hopes of healing it quickly. Luckily, it won’t take a long time compared to the damage on my arm.

I hear JB and Hiram come in through the walls (I didn’t even pick up on there being another entrance, or maybe my hearing is completely off) and come over to me. By the time I’m finished healing my ankle, Hiram holds his hand out to me. I take it, and I’m back on my feet. “Everything okay?” he asks. I glance around again…..the graveyard isn’t as pretty or as pristine as it was when I entered. The flowers have decayed, the thorns look more gruesome. It’s all pale.

“I’m good.” I mutter, still half in a daze. So wait….was the graveyard always this unkempt? Then, what about…. My curiosity leads me to tilt my head over to her tombstone. Well, that certainly wasn’t there before. I would say I’m shocked, but at this point….

“What is it?” JB notices my dreary look. Eventually, both she and Hiram turn to see what’s been left on the grave. In bold red-lettering and an arrow pointing downward, whether it’s written in blood or spray-paint, I don’t have the answer, pronounces a cruel fate for who could have been the heir of this estate. ** _PENELOPE BLOSSOM BURNS IN HELL._ **

Hiram sighs, “Satan, have mercy. I guess Hal _ did _ leave something behind after all.”

JB steps out towards the grave. Out of instinct, I’m about to reach for the girl and pull her back, because who knows what other little presents Hal left here. Before I’m able to go through with it, Hiram touches my shoulder, signaling for me to wait. I’m relieved to find JB politely keeping her distance. She examines the grave from her place, “He really must not have liked her. Otherwise, why did he decorate her grave like she was Carrie White?”

Okay, that’s new. Hiram and I both face each other in shock. I know JB had talked about reading some Stephen King, mostly just short stories Gladys would read to her, but…..how would she be old enough have read _ Carrie _? Or have even seen the movie?

I’m about to ask the question, but Hiram beats me to it. “You’ve seen _ Carrie _?”

She whips her head back to him, shrugging her shoulders. “What? Mom let me watch the movie with her when I was home sick one day! And then when I found out Stephen King wrote the original story, I practically begged my parents to get me the book. Eventually, Jughead got me the book for my birthday this past year. Read it in less than a week.”

He steps away from me and comes closer to the girl. I think he’s now starting to pick up on just how intelligent she really is. He follows up with, “So…..You like Stephen King?”

JB answers, “I’ve read a coupla things by him. _ The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon _ . _ Different Seasons _ . First book of the _ Dark Tower _ series. Mom and Dad want me to wait a few years before I get my hands on _ Pet Semetary _ and _ It _. I guess I’m just into all things supernatural and fantasy.” I can’t help but smile. Hearing her discuss her interests with another bibliophile warms my heart, and it takes my mind off the pain in both my ankle and my arm. Plus, seeing how…..how different Hiram is starting to act around the young Jones girl is rather relieving. I don’t want to speak too soon on his sudden change of behavior, but I can only hope that he and JB can continue this interaction. In a way, he’s beginning to see her as an intellectual equal…..or like a daughter.

He lowers down to her height level, resting his forearms on his knees. “I must say, Hobbit…..your parents have done right by you. Encouraging you to read at such a high level. Have you considered taking an honors level literature class?”

The girl sits on the question for a moment, I think she’s probably just shocked that he’s starting to act not-so-annoyed by her presence. JB tilts her head at him, “Maybe? I don’t know, that kind of class sounds more up Jughead’s alley. Although, he has let me read some of the books from his classes, so…..” Her attention span starts to die out, and frankly, I don’t blame her. She glances around the joint and she nervously clasps her hands together. I don’t know if Hiram can pick up on it, so maybe I might have to cue him in. 

Good thing I don’t have to, because he stands up and nods at JB. “You still have time to figure it all out, Miss Jones. So do not worry. I’m sure whatever choice you make, your parents would be incredibly proud of you.” With that, the young girl glows. She gives him the biggest grin in the world, now knowing that maybe this wizard isn’t such a big old meanie after all.

JB turns back to the grave, pointing at the vandalism. “Should we clean that up?” My good mood fades…..I forgot about that. I know cleaning up Penelope’s grave and restoring the area around it would be the right thing to do. But what if I go into another hallucinatory flashback? What if Hal is lurking around the corner? What if…..what if the police come and question why we’re laying our fingers over private property? As much as I want to play good samaritan here, it’s too risky. Plus, I wouldn’t want FP and Gladys to question why their little girl has been caught running around a graveyard.

The two look to me for an answer. I rest my hands on my hips and let out a sigh. “At this point, we might as well leave it. I don’t suspect anyone to be coming up here anytime soon.” I remove my hands from their place and begin to walk backwards. I glance around one last time, snow is starting to fall harder now. A low whisper picks up in the wind, like it’s laughing at me. From the corner of my eye, I see Hiram’s face fall. He looks….panicked. Is he having the unsettling feeling too?

“Besides,” I tell them, still backing away, “this place is giving me the creeps.”

JB stares at me, then off to the side of me. Her eyes go big, all scared. “LOOK OUT!”

Before I can even react, I bump into something behind me. I turn around, about ready to fall. But whatever…..whoever, I collided with takes a good hold on me. The aura is familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it. I look up, afraid of believing that it’s who I think it is. 

I meet his eyes, and I just blink at him. “Keller?”

Tom Keller loosens his hold on me, staring me down in disbelief. “Miss Beauchamp, what are you doing here?” He then looks away from me, noticing Hiram and JB standing all that way from behind. “You too, Lodge? Seriously? And….and why the hell do you have FP’s kid with you?”

Looking over my shoulder, I see JB hurry over to Hiram’s side, her eyes bulging. She rushes her words, “Hi, Sheriff Keller.”

Hiram goes in to defend our honor, “Keller, just let us explain….”

Tom cuts him off, “You realize that Thornhill’s closed off, right? As in, completely off limits. Dangerous. Especially for little girls like her.” He ends that statement pointing at JB, sending her hiding behind Hiram. Tom then directs his speech at me, “Miss Beauchamp, forgive me if you’re not aware of our town’s history, but no one is allowed to enter this place. I saw your car outside the gate…..” He drones on about his wondering of how we unlocked the gate, but I can’t pay attention. I completely forgot to move the car. I forgot to close up the gate behind us. Great, now I might end up getting arrested, and JB will have to explain to FP and Gladys how she ended up in a jail cell. So much for being a good babysitter.

Suddenly, JB pipes up, “I’m the reason we’re here!” Tom stops his explanation and eyes the girl. Hiram and I also turn to her. I don’t get right away what she’s doing, but then it clicks. She’s trying to keep up from having to follow Tom back to the station. She fabricates a story, “We have to do a project for history class about an area of town. I wanted to know about the Blossoms and Thornhill, and….and….and we thought coming here would actually get us more insight. We couldn’t find much, so…..that’s why we’re here. In this graveyard.”

Tom lets me go, stepping around me carefully. He starts glaring at something, his facial expressions going from confused, to stern, to angry. That’s when I realize he’s looking at what’s been painted onto Penelope’s tombstone. Tom points at it, “And THAT just happened to be here when you walked in?”

Hiram lifts his hands into the air. “Keller, I promise you, we found it this way.” But Tom won’t listen. He walks past me, past Hiram and JB, and lowers down to examine the grave.

He huffs, “Poor Penelope. Still getting hate after years of being dead. But….yet again, wasn’t really all that much of a saint. You remember, don’t you, Lodge? 

“Oh, I remember.” Hiram commiserates while shooting me a sorrow look. “She paraded around school like she owned it. She was horrible. And my sympathies go out to anyone who ever had to survive her tyranny.” I know he’s putting on an act for Keller, but….. That last part was meant for me to hear. He was speaking about me, to me. I could break down right now, get all blubbery, but I have to keep it together. I have to keep playing Wendy Beauchamp just until we’re in the clear from Keller. So, I mouth to him _ Thank You _, and he gives me a small smile.

Tom rises back up and turns to us. “You know, the smart thing would have been to install cameras around the Blossom property. Just so we could have figured out what kind of jackass would vandalize someone’s grave. But, seeing that this whole place is private property, that’s not quite possible.” The last part makes JB shoot me a quick glance. Something must have sparked in her, I’m not exactly sure what. Before I can catch her attention, she pulls her tablet out of her bag and pokes at it furiously. Meanwhile Tom continues berating Hiram and me, “Look, I get the kid is doing something for school, but you realize this kind of place is dangerous for her? There’s a reason the gate was closed! Bad things went down here in Thornhill! Hiram, our classmate died here!” Then, he starts to get quiet, “As did other people our senior year….”

As did….wait a minute. Does….does Tom Keller remember the other murders? The other kids Hal and I killed? Hiram turns back to me all concerned, but by now I’m too intrigued to stand to the side and be quiet. If Tom does remember anything about what happened, if he had any research into those murders since being on the PD…...maybe…..maybe he could…..

I jump back into the conversation, “What other people? Are you saying there were more deaths?”

Tom brings his fingers up to the area between his eyebrows and massages it. He takes a little bit before he responds, “Yeah. Few others. I’m sorry, my memory’s not too well on the whole matter.” _ Yeah, no shit _, I think to myself. He continues, “But….but from what’s popping into my head, they were just all…..weird accidents. Like….one killed got mauled by a bear. Penelope, burned in an unusual, nasty fire. And….” Then he turns to Hiram, pointing at him, “Hermione got in that car crash.”

Hiram goes pale. The calmness goes away, replaced by controlled anger. His fists curl. His brows burrow. He looks like he could hex Tom right on the spot. Without wanting to lose his temper, he says, “What does Hermione have to do with any of this, Tom?”

“Relax.” Tom waves him off. “Maybe it’s all just a giant coincidence, but….” He pauses for a moment, then he lets out a nervous chuckle. “I mean, the time range of all our classmates getting killed and injured all occurred a little too close to one another. And no one could figure out why.” He twists his head back behind him to get one last look at Penelope in her new permanent residence. Did he and Penelope ever get along? Or did he despise her just like everyone else? He huffs, then he turns back to us. “I’ll escort you all out of here. Don’t worry, I won’t arrest you, but it wouldn’t be wise to stick around on private property---”

“Actually, this graveyard is open to the public.” JB voices so suddenly. The whole area goes silent. We all wind up staring at the girl, clutching onto her tablet for dear life. So that’s why she pulled it out? To research this place? Tom’s about to open his mouth, but JB comes around to her explanation. What she says almost makes her sound like one of the history books I’m reading. “Members of the Blossom Family donated money to restore the graveyard around Thornhill, allowing for citizens of Riverdale to come and celebrate what the Blossoms brought to this town.”

Tom stays frozen just blinking at her. Hiram and I look at one another again, this time both of us recognizing just how lucky we are to have JB around. Tom then walks over to the girl, “How the hell do you know that?”

JB shrugs. “The Blossoms have money. They own, like, half the town, so it would make sense to preserve the family name.” He doesn’t seem to buy her answer, which causes her to flip around her tablet so he can see what she researched. “It’s on the town’s website too. Has a tab to it and everything. Almost everything about Riverdale is on the website. Duh.”

The last part causes Tom to glare down at the girl. She’s doing her best to hold back laughter, simply because she knows that she won this battle. With graceful confidence, she slips her tablet back into her backpack, then she skips out to the entrance of the graveyard. Tom doesn’t know what to make of the whole situation, and it’s kind of hilarious to watch. Eventually, Hiram makes his way over to Tom, bringing his gaze over to where JB is waiting for us “I happen to agree with the girl on this one.”

Tom raises his brow. “On what?”

Hiram brings his gaze back over to him, rolling his eyes. “Everything about Riverdale is on the town website.” Tom can’t even say anything, and I’m…..astonished. Then, with such randomness, he scrunches his face at Tom and curls his lip up. “Duh.” Well this is a side of Hiram I haven’t seen before. It’s hysterical and quite endearing. I watch as Tom is about ready to lose it, and as JB starts giggling. Hiram looks over at the girl and winks, leaving to head in her direction. Well, that’s good that they’re finally starting to get along.

By now I’m the only one standing in this graveyard, well, besides Tom. I don’t think he’ll let me stay here a minute longer, and honestly I don’t plan on staying. He’s about to gesture for me to follow him out, but I get the hint pretty quickly. Time to leave the Blossoms and their messed up family history behind. I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket and start to make my way out. 

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

_ I could burn this uniform. I could toss it into the river, or run it over with someone’s car. I just want it to disappear. I want Midge to…. Oh, what am I saying? I need to calm down! _

My head goes back and forth like this all the way back to the trailer park. I could have asked Jughead or Archie to give me a ride, but I don’t want to bother them with my problems. And I don’t want to further damage V’s status on the Vixens. I put her in that position, I made Midge upset. _ No, it’s the other way around _, the little nasty voice taunts in my head with a whisper. And no matter what I do to silence it, or to focus on the positive, it keeps coming back. Over and over. Wanting me to give in to my anger, my negativity, my…..my guilt.

I don’t see Ali’s car in the makeshift driveway when I enter the trailer park. I see no signs of the Joneses at their homestead. So, basically, I’m by myself with no one to talk to. No one to hash out my feelings with, no one but…..Salem. No, I shouldn’t approach him about this. He would suggest something violent, something sinister. I can’t afford more blood on my hands. I don’t want to carry the burden of more regret. But what if Midge’s reign worsens? What if her treatment of me and V turns hostile? What if I can’t fight back?

I fumble with my keys as I come up the staircase. My tears start up again when I jam the key into the hole, when I twist the door handle. It feels empty in here without Ali. I know Salem is here too, but it doesn’t feel the same. It feels like…...like I want to make bad decisions. Salem is patiently waiting for me on the arm of the couch as I come through the threshold. My fingers wrap around the key, the metal feels cool in my touch. I blink away some tears before I manage to look over at Salem.

“Another bad day?” he chirps, leaping off of the couch.

I let my bags drop to the floor with a huff. “I’m not in the mood to talk, Salem. I think I’m gonna lay down for a while.” I make my way into the bedroom, using some magic to close the little curtain at our window. I flop down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan. The blades swirl round and around. The breeze comforts me. Imagine if Aunties saw me this way. How would they respond to my emotional outbursts? What would…..what would Mom and Dad say?

I push myself up right and get up from the bed, making my way over to my side table drawer. Dad’s amulet is still where I left it. I enclose my fingers around it, hoping that maybe Dad can give me an answer from…..somewhere. Heaven, I could take advice from anyone right now. Even Roz or Susie. Even Ambrose. _ No….they wouldn’t understand. They would never believe you. After all, you already live a lie…. _

Salem jumps up onto the bed. “Something’s bothering you, Sabrina.” He genuinely sounds concerned, yet…..I don’t know if I…. He comes over to me and presses his paw into my shoulder. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”

I shake my head at him, blubbering up. “This is something I have to deal with on my own, Salem.” I make my way back down onto the bed and lay my head against the pillow, tightening my grip on Dad’s amulet. I return my gaze up to the hypnotic ceiling fan. “I’ll talk about it with Ali later. Right now, I need to rest. Besides, Salem, it shouldn’t be any of your concern.”

“But it is.” he insists with a rather loud mew. Before I can glare down at him and ask what he means, Salem curls up against my hip. He looks up at me, “I’m _ your _ familiar. Everything you do _ is _ of my concern.”

I run through Salem’s fur with my free hand. My lips quiver, the tears come down faster. What do I do? Can I even trust Salem? Yes, he could give me some wisdom, but I need to deal with the Midge problem on my own. I need to keep my nose clean and stay out of trouble until I’m able to go home. Having Salem act as my knight in shining armor won’t solve the situation. It will only increase the body count. It’s like I have a devil and an angel battling for my trust, with Dad’s amulet weighing down one side of me, and Salem curled up against the other. Who is the wiser of the two? Who will lead me down a path of destruction and rage? Who should I listen to?

The amulet starts to get uncomfortably heavy in my hands. I choke out a sob and set the amulet down, freeing up my hand. I bring it over to fully cradle Salem, and I weep into his fur. “Shh….it’s alright….don’t be sad.” his voice comforts me. “I’m here to help you, Sabrina. Tell me what you want, and I shall give it to you. I can help…..but you have to trust me.” I squeeze my eyes shut, holding on tighter to Salem. My anger builds up again, same with my guilt. My common sense is blinded by rage. Any rational way of thinking is out the window. I’ve been fooled by Salem’s promises before…..but…...maybe just this one time…..

“I want Midge Klump gone.” I blurt out. My voice echoes in the empty trailer, it spooks me a little. Wait, I should think about this long and hard for a minute. Oh, screw it, I’m done contemplating back and forth. I’m tired of playing a victim. I have to be proactive here. My mouth continues to run, “I don’t want her to hurt V anymore. I don’t want to hear anymore of her lies. I….I want her gone.”

Did I just seal Midge’s fate? Did I really make a death wish? The uncertainties of what I just asked for circulate in my consciousness. So many what-ifs….too many reasons to back out, to change my mind….

All of that is silenced when Salem reaches his paw up to my forehead. “Then gone will Midge Klump be. Rest now, Sabrina Spellman. I’ll take care of everything.”

Black and grey clouds swirl in my dreamy vision. The harsh whispers turn into a soothing lullaby. For the first time, in a couple of days, I feel calm, at peace…..more certain of what I have to let Salem do.

XXXXXXXX

** _End of Chapter Eleven_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexa, play "Trust in Me" from Disney's The Jungle Book....
> 
> UH OH. Midge, gurl, you better start running. Will Sabrina really go through with what Salem has planned? Will Alice get information out of Keller? Will Sabrina and Alice ever tell each other the truth???
> 
> Well, seeing how my work schedule goes, I'll keep writing and updating as soon as I can. Until next time, stay safe kiddos!


	13. Last Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELCOME FOOLISH MORTALS
> 
> Hi, how's it going? Sorry I've been away for so long, this chapter was a beast to write. But I hope that you think it's worth it. I'll admit it's a bit lengthy. Whoops.
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoy friends :)

**ALICE**

A gust of wind blows through the trees above me. It must be getting later in the day, the temperature has dropped significantly. I realize that I haven’t checked time in a while since leaving Pop’s with JB. I’m guessing it’s somewhere close to 4, maybe even 5 in the evening. Has Sabrina finished up at school yet? Would she be heading back to the trailer park now? Wow, maybe I really don’t know her schedule. I’ve been so caught up in my own course of action that….

“Good thing you never met her.” Tom Keller bails me out from my thoughts. I almost jump at the sound of his voice, I didn’t even realize he was next to me. He turns his head to get one last look at the entrance to the graveyard. He brings his gaze back to me, “Or the whole family for that matter. You thought McCarthy was a nut-job? The Blossoms made him look like a national hero.” It finally clicks that he’s talking about Penelope and the other Blossoms again. Yet, I can’t quite wrap my head around Tom’s comment. What do the Blossoms have to do with…. “You know, like McCarthyism? The “witch-hunts” he had?” he clarifies. 

Oh. Oh no. I could stop walking right there, but I think he might be leading onto something. Joseph McCarthy may have led the Red Scare, but the Blossoms weren’t dealing with politics, they were literally trying to hunt and kill witches. 

But I need Tom to confirm that. I ask him, “Why, did the Red Scare leak into Riverdale?”

He shakes his head, slowing down his pace. He glances up at what’s left of the looming walls of Thornhill. “You know what people call this town?” I’ve heard quite a few names over the years, actually. Some of the kids at Sabrina’s school call it “Riverfail”, amongst some other insulting nicknames. Still, I have to keep playing pretend here, so I shrug my shoulders. Tom looks down at me, “They call it “the murder capital of the world”. Every once in a while, strange things always happen, and they happen so quickly and so….oddly that no one has really pieced together why they occur.”

I take my hands out of my pockets and begin to wrap my arms around myself, hoping for better warmth. I glance around the Blossom property, spotting Hiram and JB down the gravel path. They both keep turning their heads up to me and Tom, like they’re trying to eavesdrop in on the conversation. While staring at them, I keep up the conversation. “How do the Blossoms tie in then?” 

I hear him say, “They believed it was witchcraft, or something along that line. They rallied up a lot of people who gave into the hysteria, and…..” I turn back to Tom as he takes a moment to remove his hat and ruffle through his grey hair. I can’t help but notice the wrinkles on his face showing. This job really must be stressing him out, on top of having to raise a kid. And I thought looking after Sabrina, waiting tables, and hunting demons was hard. Tom readjusts his hat back onto his head and continues, “A lot of people were thrown in jail. Some left town. And….anyone they clarified guilty was….killed. Have FP and Gladys, or even Hiram, told you anything about the Riverdale Reaper?”

So he does have some insight on this topic. Of course I’m aware of the Reaper, I’ve been looking it up for days now. But I have to keep in mind….in Tom’s eyes, I’m the new waitress in town, not the Serpent girl he may or may not remember from high school. I have to keep Teen Alice quiet for a little longer, I need to let Wendy Beauchamp ask the questions. I tell Tom, “I don’t think so. I mean….some of the guests at Pop’s bring it up when they discuss the recent attacks. But it’s all too taboo.”

My eyes dart down to Hiram again. From the distance, I see him lift his brow at me. What on earth are you getting into, his expression reads. Luckily, Tom is looking back up at Thornhill again, which buys me some time to get a message across. I roll my eyes at Hiram, then I point at him and JB with two fingers. I motion for them to keep walking, scurrying one pair of fingers over a flat palm. Then, I bring my hand up to my ear, signaling for them to keep their ears open. I finally end my frantic silent gesturing by motioning to the space between me and Tom, before ending with my fingers curled like claws, slicing through the air.

Basically, I’m telling him, without words,  _ Keep moving, but stay close by. Keller and I are talking about the Reaper.  _ I don’t think he quite registers it right away, but JB must have caught on. I watch her tug down on the sleeve of his coat. She practically yanks him down so she can whisper the message into his ear. Now he gets it. He nods his head at me from far away. JB gives me a thumbs up.

Tom regains my attention, “I won’t keep you much longer. Here….I’ll give you a quick history lesson on the way down.” He allows for me to lead the way down the gravel path. It feels weird coming back down this way in the daylight, I still have vivid visions from when I left on Halloween, from when Hiram offered his help. I keep my eyes on the road ahead, where Hiram and JB slow down their pace to hear what Tom has to say. “People in town called this guy the Angel of Death. He primarily went after those who have “sinned”, you know, like sex before marriage, drug use, stumbling home after one or too many at the town bar. No one really knew where he came from, or what he looked like. He was…..he was like a ghost. A mystery never solved.” He stares down at his feet all melancholic. What Tom admitted is actually more detailed than what I have read in the history books. “The man who was Sheriff before me, Sheriff Howard, he spent the last few years of his service trying to put the pieces together. The man in charge during the Reaper cases only got the bare minimum facts, no suspects or anything. Howard hunted for months for an answer. A why. The insanity of it all killed him in the end.”

I have to wrap my head around the name for a moment. Howard…. The name sounds familiar. Oh wait, I think I have a vague memory of this guy. I had a couple of run-ins with him during my “candy girl” days. Didn’t like my dad too much either. It’s been a while since I even thought about that man….. Was he there when I was with Hal? Did he investigate…. Something pops into my head. The Conways. They were victims of the Reaper. Hal was in their house. Is that why Howard lost his mind? Was it all over the Conways? It could make sense, but Tom needs to confirm that.….

Tom looks back up at me, and perfect timing too. I beg the question, “And the Conways?” He glares at me, and not in a good way. How would an “outsider” like me know about the Conways? I notice Hiram glancing at me over his shoulder, perhaps hoping that I can cover my tracks. Without making it obvious, I lift one finger, signaling for Hiram to hold on. I turn back to Tom, fabricating my excuse. “I’ve heard some folks at Pop’s bring it up, and I hate to ask…..” I pause for a second, I need to really consider how I have to get this information. And I even admit, I always pondered about the Conways and their constant attention. Finally, when the words string together in my head, I make my next move, “if the Riverdale Reaper had other targets, why are the Conways the only victims brought up? How come they get named more than the others?” 

Tom stops walking. He places his hands on his hips with a long sigh. I watch how his nose crinkles and his eyes get all gloomy. His gaze goes off towards the trees above us. I’m suddenly starting to regret asking the question, I should have just kept my mouth shut. I should have just dropped the subject all together. But what is it about the Conways? What made them martyrs of the Reaper scare? I go through all the theories in my head, ones that I’ve read, ones by word of mouth at the diner, on the Southside, even back in high school.

“The Conways were the only family in Riverdale that got murdered.” Tom finally voices. “It was the only one where children got involved….and for no reason.” A wave of nausea hits me. I could throw up, I could even cry. So that’s why the town won’t shut up about the Conways. The answer was right in front of my nose! I mean, Hiram and I drew out a timeline that included the Conways! How did I not put two and two together? But it makes sense now. The hysteria hadn’t taken its full effect until the Conways. A family with no real “sin” falling victim…..but why? Why them, and not another family? The Reaper must have seen something wrong…...and maybe Hal did too.

“Is that why the Blossoms started the witch-hunts?” I speak up, my voice coming out dry.

“No, they began doing that before the Conways died.” Tom replies. “Rose Blossom was hell-bent on eliminating anyone that worked to shatter the utopia her family and General Pickens created.” He then looks at me again and throws in as a joke, “Not that Riverdale is a utopia or anything, it’s far from it.”

“But the hunts were taken more seriously after the Conways?” Tom doesn’t give me a verbal response, he just nods. He starts moving again, picking up pace to catch up to Hiram and JB. I don’t move as quickly, my ankle is still a bit sore from tripping over that branch. I wind up limping in my steps when I make my way to the group. The gate blocking Thornhill from the world sits right in front of us. Tom slips through first, gingerly holding it open. He gives us a stern look through the metal bars as he impatiently waits. Oh well, time to reenter the land of the living.

JB goes through first, then Hiram, then me. The vibe in the atmosphere changes once I’m outside the walls of Thornhill. It feels lighter, more energetic, not so….dead. My car sits where we left it. Edgar’s hopping up and down on the hood, I didn’t realize that he flew over here while we were inside. Tom comes around to face me, “Well, I hope you enjoyed your tour around Thornhill. But I don’t want to catch you wandering around this part of town again, okay? It’s too dangerous.” He then makes eye contact with JB, pointing a finger at her. “That goes for you too, kid. And pass the message onto your brother.” JB, unimpressed as ever, gives him a sarcastic thumbs up. 

Hiram checks his watch, “So does that mean we’re free to go now? I’m afraid I have to get back to my work, and you probably do as well.”

Tom readjusts the hat on his head, then he takes a baby step over towards Hiram and me. “Just one more thing. Will I be seeing you both at the memorial rally this weekend? Considering your girls…..” He doesn’t finish the sentence, or maybe I’ve stopped listening. I see his lips moving, but I’m not paying any attention to the words coming out of his mouth. My mind goes back to Sabrina again. I’m still a bit troubled by her situation, and a bit confused. Is she getting kicked off the cheer team? Temporarily benched? What did that Midge girl say to her that royally upset her? I want to help her, I really do. But how can I if I don’t have all the details of….

“Miss Beauchamp?” Tom calls out to me. He and Hiram are both staring at me, waiting for an answer. I blink at him a couple of times. What does he want? Oh…..right.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.” I mumble out of embarrassment.

Tom comes closer to me. Can he tell that I fazed out? Probably, he looks like someone just shot his dog. He lifts up his hand, maybe to reach out and touch my shoulder. But he doesn’t go through with it. Instead, he…..he looks down. I don’t really understand why at first, then I look down. My bandage is peaking out from my coat. “What happened to your arm?”

I shove the sleeve down. “Kitchen accident. Nothing major.” Tom brings his eyes back up to meet my own. I’m not in the mood to play 20 Questions with him right now, so I ramble on, “I’m alright, I promise. I’ve dealt with a lot worse.” 

He buys the answer, and thank goodness. “Okay.” he tells me. Then, so Hiram and JB don’t overhear, he lowers his voice, “Just….if anything happens, you know you can contact me. You can trust me, Miss Beauchamp.”

I….I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know how to feel. Tom has given off the vibes of wanting to protect me before. He admitted it to me himself the day Chuck Clayton’s body was found in Fox Forest. He would rather have me under his care compared to Hiram’s. He wanted me to make smart decisions. Well, what if my smart decisions involve Hiram? Who else would have my level of magic to get rid of Hal? Yet again….Tom has the confidential information on the Conways, whatever Howard worked himself to death over. He was willing to share vital details with me just minutes ago. And he seems to like me. I think he may have some admiration for Wendy. Maybe….

No. Manipulating Tom Keller is not the answer. Neither would be seducing him. Zelda, or even Hilda, would use their appearances and emotions as a tactic. But not me. I will not put myself into that situation, or him for that matter, no matter how bad I need information on the Reaper. Granted, I could find other means to acquire what Hiram and I need, but…..but Tom may be the only shot I have at this point. My one good source that isn’t out of a long, out-dated history book. How do I handle this? What do I do?

My eyes go to the ground, I spot my bandage still peeking out. Tom is still staring at it. I don’t want him to fret over me. I don’t want anyone to worry about me, not even Sabrina, I can defend myself just fine, thank you very much. He eventually moves his gaze upwards, and I do as well. Okay….if Tom Keller is genuinely showing some concern….

“Call me Wendy.” I shrug at him. “I mean, you got me going on a first name basis with you. Might as well offer the same.” His expression lightens. I’ll take that as a good thing, hopefully.

Tom stands up straight and readjusts his hat. He smirks, “See you around, Wendy.” Then, without acknowledging the other two, he heads off in the opposite direction, freeing us once more.

Hiram waits until Tom is out of range before he lets out an exaggerated sigh. He makes a face, once that I don’t think I’ve ever seen him make in the time I’ve known him, where his eyes widen and his upper lip folds in, exposing his teeth. He speaks to me and JB in a sarcastic tone, “Well.  _ That _ was fun!”

“Sorry, Ali.” JB mumbles, catching my attention. “I didn’t mean for you guys to get in trouble with Sheriff Keller.” She ends her sentence by glaring down. Oh no, does she think this all happened because of her? No….

I bend down to her level and hold onto her arms. “Honey....look at me.” It takes her a little bit to meet my gaze, but she does. I take a deep breath before continuing, “We actually got something out of that trip. And would not have been possible if you hadn’t suggested the idea.” My hand moves to her cheek, and I give her a warm smile. JB grins in return, she must have gotten my message loud and clear. And I do mean it. My troubles with the Blossoms may not get resolved, but we’re now a step closer to uncovering what part Hal could have potentially played in the massacres. Speaking of…. I stand back up straight and address Hiram. “Were you two able to catch any of what Keller told me?” 

Hiram holds out his hand, using his fingers to number off his statements. “Let’s see - Riverdale as quote, unquote, “murder capital of the world”, Reaper going after sinners,  _ supposedly _ , and….Conways as the only family wrapped up in all of this. Hence, sending Rose Blossom and her comrades, and the whole town, into utter mass hysteria.” He tosses his hand down with that last part. He looks up at me, looking for some form of approval. “How’s that for eavesdropping, Acid Queen Alice?”

I have to admit, I am rather impressed. I turn my sights down to JB, and she nods her head. Of course, she was walking with Hiram. I look back up at him, my mouth opening slightly, then closing it to form a tight-lipped smirk. My shoulders rise a bit, the corners of my mouth lift too. “Pretty impressive, Manhattan.” I don’t know if it’s from the cold or from…..something else, but his cheeks get all red. He stares down, the smirk forming into a small smile. And he’s trying to hide it, I can tell. It’s kind of…..adorable? No, not adorable. Endearing sounds better. Yeah, I’ll call it endearing.

The sky above us is starting to darken. The clouds are more grey. The temperature is dropping. Wow, I’m starting to lose track of time. I should get JB back to the trailer park before FP and Gladys start sending me frantic texts on their daughter’s whereabouts. And frankly, I should go and see if Sabrina is home, if she’s okay. I reach for the young Jones’s shoulder, “Are you ready to head back home? Unless….there was anywhere else you thought of heading to?”

JB shakes her head. “Nah. I should finish my homework in the trailer before dinner. Or I might play some Minecraft. I don’t know, I’ll figure it out on the ride home.” She then moves away from me, heading back over to my car. Edgar gets all excited when she approaches him, giving him little scratches on the head. She disappears into the passenger’s seat and shuts the door. 

Hiram watches the whole affair, then he turns to me as I come over to him. I ask, “Want us to give you a lift back to Pembrooke? Isn’t it near Thornhill?”

“Are you sure?” his teeth chatter from the cold as he speaks. “I can make my way back just fine. Besides, I have Edgar with me in case something goes wrong.”

I wind up rolling my eyes at him. “Really? Walking in the dark by yourself? With my demon-ex on the loose? No, that’s not happening.” I take a couple of steps back, feeling out for the door handle to the back seat. I grab on and push the car door open. Hiram’s about to open his mouth and protest, but he can’t get the words out. Also, I’m glaring at him and raising an eyebrow. I don’t care if he knows the way back. It’s too damn cold out, and my gut wants me to do the right thing and give him a ride home. 

After a while, he gives up and takes the offer. I step back to allow him room to enter the vehicle. He looks at me with a glowing expression, “And I thought you were against persuasion tactics.”

I scowl. “Unless you want me to let you freeze, I suggest you shut up and get in the damn car.”

“With pleasure.” he chuckles, sliding into the back seat. I shut the door and make my way around to the driver’s side. JB is slurping on what’s left of her orange freeze by the time I’m all buckled up. I take one last look at the iron gates of Thornhill, still holding back a haunting family history from the rest of this town. I just hope that whether they ended up in Heaven or in Hell, that whoever is in charge hasn’t done the Blossoms wrong.

“So long, Penelope.” I mutter to myself. Then, I drive off.

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

The room smells of fresh flowers and cake. For a moment, I forget that I’m asleep, the scene I’m in feels so real. I’m not in Riverdale lying in the cold of the trailer park, I’m back in Greendale, back with Aunties and Ambrose, with Roz and Susie, with Harvey. We’re all together to celebrate me. The way my birthday should have been celebrated. Everyone is so happy, so glad to see me. The words of the Happy Birthday song echo through the halls of home, the burning of the candles reflect a shadow on the walls. I’m back where I’m supposed to be. Everything is how it should be…..

Aunt Ali isn’t here. Neither are V or Jughead. The smile I formed is beginning to fade. The singing voices sound like a broken record. The candles on my cake are melting into the frosting. The  ** _Happy Birthday Sabrina_ ** in red lettering no longer sends a happy message. It now says  ** _JOIN ME, SABRINA_ ** ….

“Salem?” I call out for my familiar in this hazy dream. No response. Not even a meow. The singing voices continue, sounding more disjointed, less pretty. “Salem….” I let out a cough. I feel weak all of a sudden.

“Shh….it’s alright, Sabrina.” I hear Salem speak from afar. I look around me….where is he? Why am I getting sick again? Isn’t this supposed to be a happy moment? Through the singing, he tells me, “Remain calm. Enjoy this moment. After all…..don’t you want this? Isn’t this what you’re fighting for?”

What I’m fighting for…. How much have I told Salem about myself? Did he create this projection? My vision is blurring, the red wax and lettering on the cake looks like blood now. The room no longer smells fresh and clean, it smells of smoke and blood. I look up from the cake and notice….. Everyone I saw at the table has disappeared. They’re now replaced by people….faces I haven’t seen before. A boy with dark hair and broken glasses. A red haired girl with part of her neck torn out. Another girl….one who looks eerily similar to V. Chuck Clayton is there, and so are Moose and Midge. They all stare at me with long, hollow faces. At the other head of the table, a figure in a ski mask stares at me with an axe sitting in its lap. Its eyes are bright blue. 

Security is gone, my happiness transforms into fear. My breathing hardens. My eyes water. What is happening? Why can’t I calm down?

“Sabrina….” A new voice enters this nightmare. It’s comforting, yet it’s so far away. The singing turns into harsh whispering, into chanting. It’s cultish. It’s horrific. “Sabrina…..” the new voice grows louder the closer it comes. My hands shake. My coughing increases. My heart could fly out of my chest. The chanting gets harsher. And wherever Salem is, he won’t make it stop. I can’t make it stop.

A hand comes to my shoulder. “Sabrina?” The vision goes black. My eyes snap open, I jolt up in fear. I bring my hand to my heart as I readjust back to being awake. Next to me, Salem growls and detaches himself from my side, jumping off the bed. I look over at the hand…..

It’s Ali, and I’m relieved. She blinks down at me in the dark, “Have you been here all afternoon?” I glance around the bedroom…..wow, it really has gotten dark out. How long have Salem and I been sleeping? And…..why was Salem manipulating my dream so….

“Just for a couple of hours, I think.” I mumble, rubbing my eyes. I stretch out my arms, staring back over my shoulder at the side table lamp. Maybe a little light could help wake me up. I lift my hand up slightly, focusing on a spell to turn the light on. Nothing happens. That’s odd. I try to concentrate again on the lightbulb again. Come on, Sabrina…..produce some light. Nothing, again. Am I just tired? Have I worked myself up too much over cheer? And Midge?

“Here.” Ali shifts closer to the lamp and switches on the light manually. This is embarrassing. How did my witchcraft not work? I feel Ali smooth my hair down. “Would getting some fresh air help? Some food in your stomach?” My throat is like a desert, I can’t form a word. I bring a hand up to it, struggling to cough. My head aches too. I feel so weak.

Ali brings her hand to my back, making small circles. “If you’re not up for moving around, I can bring you back something to eat. I’ll just be over with the Joneses.” Salem hisses at the last part, the sound jars me. I watch as he jumps onto the dresser and gives himself a bath. Maybe it might do me some good to go over to see Jughead. Maybe he could help figure out what just happened to me…..if there’s anything he studied on demonology that could explain it. Besides, maybe some food might help get my strength back.

“I’ll go.” I murmur, and Ali gives me a soft smile. I roll my shoulders back, “In, like, five minutes. I just need to…”

Ali gets off of the bed, sweeping some of my hair out of my face. “Take your time, sweetheart. I’ll be out in the living room when you’re ready.” She starts to back away, leaving me alone on the bed. Well, leaving me with Salem. She heads out of the bedroom and shuts the door behind her.

Salem lets out a growl as she exits. “Gracious, I thought she’d never leave. Everything was going fine until she showed up.” He stretches out his hindlegs on the dresser before leaping on over to the bed. That’s odd….how is me having a nightmare-ish scene something he considers fine? I glance back over at the lamp behind me. I wonder…..

I get up from the bed, feeling for the little switch under the lamp cover. The light goes out. I back up a step or two and take a deep breath. I lift up one hand, concentrating on the lightbulb once again. I hear a little flicker, something clicking from that corner of the room. Then the noise ceases. I open my eyes. The room is still dark. And I…..

Oh no, I think I’m going to be sick. A wave of nausea runs through me, I bring a hand to my mouth. I hurry over to the bathroom, flicking on the bathroom light. I struggle to breathe as I lean over the bathroom sink. Whatever is trying to come up and out of my mouth is making my eyes water. Come on, Sabrina. Just like Ali said. Daisies and candles. Do it.

The build up in my throat disappears, all that’s left is a little something on my tongue. I spit it out….it’s black and dark red, just like the blood that’s come out of my nose. I look up at the mirror, which for some reason is still broken. Oh great, my nose is starting to bleed again. I wipe away the blood, hoping that will make it stop. It doesn’t, and a droplet falls into the sink. I sigh out of frustration. 

“I did tell you to stay calm, you know.” Salem purs as he hops onto the lid of the toilet. “To be fair, I probably should have warned you about the aftermath….your little, uh…..problem here.” He lifts his chin up at me. Is he referring to my nose bleed? Honestly, his whole behavior is confusing me. And the fact that I can’t even use my witchcraft to perform simple tasks….

“Salem,” I croak out, “did you….did you take my magic? Is that why I had that strange dream?”

“Not all of your witchcraft is gone, Sabrina. It’ll all come back in no time.” he confesses. My mouth hangs, my head gets dizzy again. So, he did take it. But….but how is that even possible? Can familiars even steal a witch’s abilities? Salem continues his explanation, “But in order for me to take care of Miss Klump, I need to borrow some of your capabilities….for what I have planned.”

For what he has planned…..I know I agreed to trust Salem. I’m putting my situation into his hands, just like V and I did when he helped out with Chuck. Something isn’t sitting right, though.

I turn back to my familiar, gripping onto the sink. “You didn’t take my witchcraft when you killed Chuck. You didn’t need it when you were missing the other night.” The headache begins to clear up, but my mind is still wandering all over the place. Snippets of my dream resurface….Roz, Susie, Harvey, and Aunties leaving me. The cake’s message. The figure in the mask. What did it mean?

“What exactly are you going to do with Midge, Salem?” I ask, and now I genuinely want to know what is to be of Midge. Do I want her to not torment me and V? Yes. But…..but do I want her dead? Injured? Driven crazy? Is Salem going to give her the same fate as Chuck? 

Salem jumps onto the sink, coming closer to me. “I thought you trusted me.” he sounds wounded. “I’m acting out of loyalty to YOU, Sabrina. Are you beginning to doubt that loyalty?”

My mouth clamps shut. Now I’m starting to feel bad. Maybe I’m just overthinking everything, and I’m unfairly taking it out on him. Maybe Salem is right. “No.” I mumble as I scoop Salem into my arms. He clings onto me while I walk out of the bedroom. I tell him, “I….I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt. That’s all. And I’m petrified of losing you again.”

“Well, I am not going anywhere, Miss Spellman.” he chirps. I set him down onto the bed and scratch his head. He looks up at me with those strange bright eyes of his, “All I ask of you is to not worry your little head over how I handle Miss Klump.” I want to say something, to maybe inquire about his plan…..but nothing comes out of my mouth. And at this point, it may be best not to draw that information out at all. So, I decide to just nod my head at him. Salem lifts up so he can press his paw into my forehead. “Soon enough, you’ll have the life you want. You’ll get to see your friends, your family….you’ll have the celebration that you deserve….”

The doubt bubbles in my head again. Celebration….does he mean my birthday? Why were Chuck, Moose, and Midge there? Chuck was the only one who died. Moose lived, and Midge….well, for now, she’s still alive. And they were just seats away from that figure….

“Why were Moose and Midge sitting near their attacker? How did you know what he looked like?” Salem doesn’t respond right away, he doesn’t even meow. He may just not understand. So, I tell him, “You know? The guy at the head of the table across from me? The one weaning the black hood?”

Salem’s head perks up at me. “Black hood….huh….” He leaves it there. Well, that wasn’t the comment I was expecting out of him. The fact that he nailed the features so perfectly creeps me out. It was just all so strange to see Chuck with Moose and Midge, and to see them with the hooded figure, and with those…..those other kids. 

“Who were the kids in my dream, Salem? I haven’t seen them before.” I bring my hand back up to my temple, massaging the area where Salem just placed his paw. The faces and features of the unknown kids stand out. The broken glasses. The red hair. The one who looked so much like V…. And they all looked dead.

I lower my hand, my eyes getting bigger. I stare down at Salem. “They were the kids that died when Ali went to school, weren’t they?” Salem stays quiet. A little too quiet if I must say. I raise my voice, “Were they the classmates Mister Jones mentioned?” Again, no answer. My heartbeat pounds in my eardrums. My fingers curl into a fist. Enough of the hiding. I yell, “WHO ARE THEY?”

There’s a knock on the door, breaking the tense moment. I turn to the door in a panic, and Salem hisses at the noise. “Sabrina?” Ali calls out from the other side. “Are you alright in there?” I exhale and unclench my fist. I need to stay calm. More than anything, I need fresh air. And something in my stomach.

I whip my head back to Salem, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t cause any trouble while I’m gone.” Then, I hurry over to the door, “Coming, Ali!” The bright light from the kitchen blinds me a bit as I come out of the bedroom. Ali stands on the other side of the door frame, tilting her head at me. I make up a quick excuse, “Sorry….Salem didn’t want me to get out of bed. He’s been acting so clingy since he got lost in the woods.” Ali blinks at me without responding. She nods her head, looking a little bit dazed. I think she took my response seriously…..I hate having to lie to her. But I can’t exactly tell her that I potentially just saw the faces of her dead classmates whilst in an unusual dream.

I step forward, pulling the door with me but leaving it open enough for Salem to get out. I let go of the handle and bring my hands together. By now, I’m ready to get out of this trailer and to spend time with Ali and the Joneses. “Are you ready to head over? Because, I’m starving!”

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE **

It’s been a while since I had time to meditate. It’s not a common regiment I practice on a daily basis, but I tend to do it when tensions elevate. And right now, meditating seems like an appropriate practice to take up. It’s one of the only few times I can sit down and not have my head screaming. It’s helped out so far since I started doing it the night after my attack, it’s been a couple of days now. And I especially want to clear out my head and get myself straight before this pep rally tonight. I have a bit of time before Sabrina will get up, so I might as well take time to get some meditation in. I set a timer on my phone for about 10 minutes, get a couple of candles going, and begin to focus on my breathing. It takes me a minute or two to shut my mind up, but the static noise does cease. My heartbeat slows to match the pace of my breathing. Good thing Gladys taught me about “daisies and candles”, it seems to help significantly. Minutes pass, in and out, daisies and candles, I feel so at peace. My brain is finally quiet.

An obnoxious meow interrupts everything. I snap one eyeball open. The living room is empty. Okay, maybe that cat of Sabrina’s is just causing trouble somewhere in the bedroom. I take a deep breath and close the lone eyeball. It’s going to take me a couple of minutes to get back into my rhythm, but I’m remaining optimistic. I start to focus again. Another meow. It sounds like a screaming banshee this time. So the cat is out here.

Well, there goes my quiet morning. My deep breath turns into an elongated sigh. My eyes roll open, I turn to the source of the unpleasant noise. It stares at me with its beady little bright eyes. I keep the backs of my hands on top of my kneecaps as I address this intruder. “Can I help you?” The cat leaps down from its place on the couch and grumbles at me. What does it want from me? I peer over at the bedroom door from my place on the carpet. It’s open. The cat’s food bowl by the kitchen table is practically overflowing. It meows, again. I glare down at it, “Sabrina didn’t lock you out. And you have plenty of food. So…..you wanna explain why you’re being a little pest?” It pushes down on the carpet with its paws. No response, huh?

I bring my hands out of their hold and lunge to the side to grab at the cat, saying, “Alright, come here.” I barely get my hands on the thing before it jumps back in fright. It practically screams like a little girl and hisses at me. I hold my hands up in defense, leaning back. Okay, so it wants to be left alone. Fine with me. “Suit yourself, weirdo.” I mutter. I return to my original position, hoping that maybe I can finish out however much time I had left of my meditation. Something isn’t sitting right with me. I’m doing my best to stay calm, I’ve created a calming environment for myself. Yet, the presence of this cat is just….

It produces some sort of noise, one that’s…...dear. It bumps its head against my arm. A weird sensation runs through me. Normally, I get nauseous if this thing gets close to me. But this time around….it’s acting sweet around me now. My eyes go down to the cat as it places its paw on my thigh. “Oh, now you wanna play nice?” I mumble. It chirps, I don’t know what it means. How Sabrina is able to understand what this thing says half the time amazes me. I wonder….

I get a good, careful grip on the cat. It doesn’t fight back or scratch at me when I lift it up. I set the cat down in front of me, stroking its underbelly with my thumbs. I have a long look into its eyes. “Where did you come from, huh? How did you make your way to Sabrina?” It blinks at me, lifting up its chin slowly. Its little body goes stiff in my hold.

The colors of its eyes swirl. There’s a haunting familiarity to the blend, one that I can’t put my finger on. A hushed whisper creeps into my head. The tingling in my body intensifies the longer I lock eyes with this cat. Have I dealt with this feeling before? I mean, seeing this little creature before gave me weird sensations, but this time…...it’s different. The cat decided to allow me to get close to it for a reason. The whispering amplifies. The tingling adapts, going from somewhat bearable to unpleasant. It’s an itch I can’t scratch, an illness I won’t be able to cure. Why does it all feel so much like deja vu?

It hits me. The cat wasn’t there the night Hal came after me. It disappeared the night FP almost died in that garage unit. The sensation I have running through me looking at this cat, the whispering sounding more and more like a sinister death wish. These aren’t butterflies in my stomach. They’re a warning sign. They’re telling me that something is….

The alarm on my phone goes off. The cat wriggles itself free with a growl. My hands shake. My heart pounds. I forgot to turn that damn alarm off. I feel like I could throw up. From the other end of the trailer, I hear the bedroom door open. “Morning, Ali.” Sabrina greets me. I force myself to turn my head to face her. I’m doing my best to hold it all in while I give her a brief smile. The cat wanders over to Sabrina and seeks immediate adoration.

The noise coming out of my phone is still going off. I fear that if I make another move, something not so good is going to spew out of me. I carefully press my thumb down on the STOP button. The alarm dies out. A jolt goes through my finger. It makes me….

“Ali, what’s wrong?” Sabrina sounds worried. I face the girl again, using the couch behind me for support as I come to a standing position. I feel woozy. My eyes go down to the cat in her arms. Everything around me blurs.

“I….I need to step outside for a minute.” I mutter. I cover my mouth and stumble out the door. The cool morning air hits my face when I pull the door behind me. My feet fly down the step, my hand goes along the wall of the trailer. My hand leaves my mouth the moment my feet hit the snow. Whatever has built up in my throat is begging for a release.

It all comes out. Dark red, brown, black, it’s disgusting. My eyes water. My skin itches. The cold stings. Either I’m becoming hypersensitive to the environment around me, or….. I’m having a bad reaction to Sabrina’s cat. And it may be related to Hal.

XXXXXXXX

“Yeah, those don’t sound like normal allergy symptoms, witch.” Gladys comes to her conclusions while she pokes around at the fire pit outside the Jones’s trailer. “You sure you haven’t dealt with this level of sickness with other felines?”

I shrug at her. “I’ve cared for stray cats at the bakery back in Greendale. All without any issues.” A gust of wind sends me shivering. The bonfire Gladys and FP started does some justice to keep me warm, but not enough to get my mind off my episode from earlier this morning. I wrap the blanket around me and look back at my trailer in the distance. Sabrina left a little while ago with Jughead to get some homework done before the pep rally tonight. I feel bad….I didn’t really get a chance to check in on her, and I didn’t let her know if I was okay…. And oddly enough, the cat went off with her. Perhaps it’s a good thing. Still….. 

I run my fingers over the grooves of this cup of coffee in my hands. “Sabrina’s cat is a whole other….beast of burden.”

“You think Hal got his grubby little demon-hands on the cat?” FP snorts. I watch as he struggles to get a tennis ball out of Hot Dog’s mouth. He succeeds, then he tosses the ball out towards the open field in the trailer park. Hot Dog goes sprinting after the ball, making fallen snow go upward behind him. JB giggles as she watches from her seat between me and Gladys.

I sigh at the theory. “It might be the only logical explanation, FP. The cat went missing when you were attacked at the storage unit. And he didn’t exactly come to my defense when I got sliced up.” I lean back in my seat, the blanket providing me with some cushion. “So….do I think Hal infected the cat? Yeah. Is Sabrina suffering with symptoms like me?” I stop speaking at the last part. If I’m having a reaction to the cat….wouldn’t Sabrina? Wouldn’t she have voiced them to me if she did? The whole situation is starting to confuse me. I’m practically gaslighting myself, pretending like I’m hallucinating my symptoms and that I’m overreacting. But I’m not….am I?

JB shifts in her seat to face me. “Maybe you should take him to the vet. Have him get looked at.” My face falls at the girl. She really is so sweet, and….naive.

Gladys shuffles closer to her daughter and smoothes down her hair. “I don’t know if a vet will do much, sweetheart.”

“But isn’t Salem sick?” the littlest Jones voices. She turns to me, “I mean, he looked all jittery when you and Sabrina came over. He only acted calm when Mister Lodge’s daughter held onto him.” The last bit sits with me funny. Huh, the cat has a bond with Hiram’s daughter? Maybe I really haven’t observed my surroundings well. But that’s still so queer. 

From the other side of the bonfire, Hot Dog scurries around FP, barking up a storm. He jumps into the air to grab the ball out of FP’s hand. The little act makes JB giggle. Looking at this dog, a sudden thought comes to me. If the cat had something irking him…..wouldn’t he have made a reaction to Hal slipping in?

“That’s what I’m confused about, JB.” I finally speak up. While keeping my eyes on FP and Hot Dog, I think out loud. “House pets would normally freak out and get vocal when an intruder comes onto the property. The cat failed to do just that. He wasn’t anywhere to be found when I got attacked. Or, at least he kept himself hidden and didn’t say a word.” Eventually, Hot Dog calms down, nuzzling into FP’s shoulder. I gesture to him as I finish my statement, “If Hot Dog was with me instead, he would have bounced off the walls and defended us. He practically loses it everytime Hiram shows up.”

FP smiles and ruffles the dog’s fur. He adopts a kid-like tone as he addresses the dog, “That’s because he’s such a good boy. Isn’t that right?” Hot Dog woofs, contently wagging his tail. FP moves his head from side to side, then he leaps up, shaking the tennis ball in his hands. Hot Dog jolts up in excitement. FP starts to run around the snowy field, Hot Dog barks and chases his owner. Gladys, JB, and I can’t help but laugh as we watch the comedic gesture.

Gladys turns back to me, resting her elbows on her kneecaps. She points down at my arm, “On a brighter note,” she starts off, “your arm looks ten times better. People haven’t been asking too many questions, have they?”

JB rolls her eyes, “Sheriff Keller did. Couldn’t stop looking at it.”

I take a sip from my coffee, and I half wish I could put some cinnamon or peppermint in to flavor it. Now that we’re on the subject, I wish I could drop something into this coffee to make me forget about acting so damn stupid around Tom Keller. I speak from the heart, “I’d rather have him asking about my arm than throwing me into a jail cell for raiding Blossom territory.” I set the cup down into the snow and lean towards the Jones women. “We’re lucky we got out of that, JB. And we at least got some information on the Reaper.”

Gladys shifts in her seat, removing her elbows from her kneecaps and crossing her legs. “So, what now? You gonna wait for Keller to instigate another conversation, or are you….” She doesn’t finish her thought, and I don’t blame her. The possibilities of where this whole thing could go are endless. All that is clear is that it will either be me or Hal six feet under when this is over, with as little bloodshed as possible. No more massacres. No repeats of 1992, or 1967. This town doesn’t need to lose anymore Conways…. The Conways. Their house. Howard was still investigating that part of the Reaper era while acting as Sheriff. He went mad digging for answers….

My trail of thought gets broken at the sound of FP falling ass-first into the snow. Hot Dog charges at him, barking like crazy. “NOOOOO!” FP jokingly pleads as the dog goes to lick his face. “I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER!”

Gladys makes a scowling face at me (sarcastically, of course). She turns to FP and gestures to the trailer behind us, “You know, there’s a perfectly empty trailer if you two wanna get a room.”

FP finds an out from the over-excessive licking by his dog. He pushes himself back onto his knees and wraps his arms around Hot Dog, giving him a big-old bear hug. He speaks to Gladys, “What? He’s just a big baby who wants to be active and healthy!”

“Says the man who feeds him food off the table.” she snarks back. JB and I do our best to contain our laughter as we watch this banter. FP at first tries to deny such an act, but he’s tripping on his own tongue, causing JB to start full-on cackling.

He stands up, pointing a finger at his daughter. He wanders over more to us, “Hey! I’ve seen the kids do it too! How do you think JB eats her veggies so quickly? Huh?”

JB stops laughing, turning to me with her chin tucked. She rises from her chair, muttering, “And that’s my cue to leave.” She bolts over to Hot Dog, picking up where FP left off on getting physical activity. 

FP comes to where Gladys is sitting and crouches down to her level. She twists her head over to him and brings a hand to reach the back of his head. She puts on a flirtatious tone, “Caught you red-handed, Jonesy. You gonna plead guilty? Cause more trouble? Little bit of both?” He replies with an almost inaudible  _ Mmmmhmmm _ , leaning more in to capture her lips.

I feel invasive watching them kiss. I don’t have feelings for FP, I’m not jealous by any means. But I still should give the two some privacy, it would be the respectful thing to do. Lucky for me, JB tosses the tennis ball in my direction, sending Hot Dog my way. At first, I’m a bit worried, just because I haven’t interacted much with this dog. I don’t really interact with any animals outside of the bakery’s stray cats, or even Edgar. But FP’s right - this dog is just a giant baby. Oh, screw it, I’ll give Hot Dog a chance. I use some telekinesis to make the tennis ball levitate in the air, hovering just above Hot Dog’s nose. He’s mesmerized by the floating object. I make it go left, the right, then left again. The ball goes higher into the air. Hot Dog locks eyes with me, his tail wagging, my brow raised. I flick my hand. Hot Dog thinks the ball went out, so he begins to sprint away from me. But he realizes that it was all a hoax. He whips back to me in a complete 180-turn. I now have the ball in my hand with a grin on my face.

Gladys and FP both cackle. He tells me through the snorts, “Oh, now you’re just teasing him.”

I toss the ball to Hot Dog. He waddles over and uses his teeth to pick it up before flopping down in the snow. I turn back to the Joneses, “It’s all about the element of surprise.” I end my statement with a wink. Hot Dog lets out another woof, which catches my attention. I reach for my cup on the ground and sip my coffee. I finally begin to notice something about Hot Dog as he fiddles with the tennis ball - his aura. Silver and blue outline the shape of his body. He knows he’s a dog.

“Whatcha thinking about, Aunt Ali?” JB wanders over to me. This new bit of knowledge has me thinking.

“Did you know animals have auras?” I whisper. Intrigued, she kneels down in front of me, shaking her head. I tap my nails on the coffee cup, “They only have two colors - silver blue or golden yellow. That means that the animal thinks it’s either an animal or a human. Your dog very much knows that it’s a dog, so his aura is silver blue.” My gaze goes off of the girl and back to my trailer, my thoughts still lingering on that cat….

“What makes you bring it up?” I hear JB ask me.

While still looking at the trailer, I explain, “Like I said, your dog has an aura….so have the strays I’ve looked after over the years. The reason I’m telling you all of this is…..it’s because, to the best of my knowledge, Sabrina’s cat doesn’t have one. I don't believe I’ve sensed one on him at all.”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

I have knots in my stomach. I haven’t eaten anything all day. My head aches, my limbs feel numb. It’s been like this all day, ever since I woke up. I wanted to talk with Ali about it this morning, but I didn’t get much of a chance. She looked sickly. I could hear her vomiting outside. Maybe she’s still having a bad reaction to the slice on her arm? Well, whatever it is, I regret not checking in with her throughout the day. Jughead and I were at the library most of the morning, and then I went to Pembrooke to get ready with V, to practice the routine with her. And during all of that….Salem went off to get ready himself.

I don’t know what will become of Midge after tonight, I only can hope that she isn’t dead. Did I make a mistake in trusting Salem? Should I even accept his loyalty further if something goes wrong? All these questions make my head so dizzy. The cool air from outside V’s car doesn’t provide much relief, neither does the A/C blowing onto me. I watch our teammates go into the gymnasium in slow motion. Pom-poms swaying in the evening breeze. Girls struggling to fix their hair. White sneakers stepping into melted snow puddles.

“You know what I could kill for right now?” V breaks the silence. My eyes bulge, sweat drips from my forehead. I rotate my head over to her, watching as she readjusts her lipstick. I can only imagine the worst options….head of the cheer team, Prom Queen, for witches to take control of Riverdale. V lifts back up her little mirror and turns to me. “A maple snow cone.” she giggles. Oh, well I didn’t consider that option at all, I’m so foolish. I let out a nervous laughter, causing my bones to shudder. V continues, “I haven’t had one since the beginning of the school year. One of the first things I had when Daddy and I first arrived to Riverdale. Have you ever tried one, ‘Brina?” My lips are glued together. I can’t get this lump out of my throat. All I can manage to do is shake my head.

“Well, I’ll see if the staff back at Pembrooke can make some for us when we get back.” V grabs for her cheer bag in the back seat and tosses her lipstick inside. Light from the sun setting outside reflects onto her pearls. Sometimes I wonder if those pearls really do help V with her tantrums, or if they are merely a placebo. She looks at me as she pulls the bag into her lap. “Do you….want to stay over tonight?”

Okay, I need to say something. So, I clear my throat, then with as much optimism as I can manage, I tell her, “I can ask Ali. It might do me some good to get out of the trailer park for a while.” My lips form a tight line, I’m struggling to take deep breaths. I wish Salem was here with us.

V places her hand on my shoulder. “Hey….are you alright?” I haven’t told V anything about my plan with Salem. I mean, I would have told her earlier, but I wish for her not to get involved. I don’t want to hurt her chances of staying on the team any further. Midge should be none of her concern from this point forward. To be honest, it isn’t mine anymore either. But it’s already too late to go back and change that.

I bring my knees up to my chest and curl my arms around them. “I’m worried, V.” I confess, “I think something might go wrong tonight.” I know it sounds vague, but it’s not just Salem dealing with Midge that worries me. I’m scared of messing up the routine. I’m scared of V and Midge fighting again. I’m scared that….that I’ll be alone if things don’t go according to plan. That no one, not Salem, not V, not even Ali, could help me clean up the mess.

V tucks her fingers under my chin. She drags my chin over so that I’m facing her. She speaks to me in a soft tone, “You’re gonna do great tonight. Even if you aren’t dancing alongside me, the fact that you’re still here speaks volumes. And if anyone tries to dissuade you of that….then I’ll hex the daylight out of them.” I finally crack a smile. That’s the one thing about V I appreciate - her dedication to be my friend. Her ability to make me smile. Her willingness to defend me, even with…..

“And Midge?” I croak.

V huffs. She lets go of my chin and flops back into her seat, staring down at her pearls. “I will do my best to keep the peace with her….for tonight. I still have my opinions about her but….” She pauses for a moment, twisting the pearls between her fingers. Her positive attitude is fading. 

“Why are we even doing this pep rally, ‘Brina?”

The question throws me off guard. I sit up straighter, I take V’s hand. “What do you mean? We….” I don’t really know how to finish, so I stop talking.

V starts to cry. “The school is making tribute to an immature and reckless man-child, and no one wants to admit that he’s hurt people. No one cares….not even Midge. And who knows what further chaos could ensue if my father ever got involved.” Her tears display her hatred. I fear that her condition could manifest, that her veins will go black and purple again. But nothing happens. 

She squeezes my hand tighter and returns her gaze up to me. “Maybe Chuck Clayton did deserve to die, ‘Brina. I’m not sure if what Salem did was the proper course of action to solve the problem, but…. I get why he did it now. He’s right, we shouldn’t be ashamed of who we are and what we went through.” I’m silent, mostly out of fear. I haven’t heard V speak like this before. She sounds so much like him, it’s haunting yet it’s so calm. How do I interpret her words? Are they even hers, or….or is her bond with Salem changing her, as it’s changing me?

Although, I do see her point of view. She was touched without her consent. No one took her story seriously. No one except for me and Salem. And she fears of her dad coming in to wipe the slate clean on her behalf. She has a reason to be angry. Her feelings are valid. As are mine.

I bring my other hand to place on top of hers. She stops her crying to look at me with a sniffle. I phrase my words carefully, “You will get justice, V. We both will. We just…..we need to be patient. Our time will come, one way or another.” I say no more, for I have no clue how V will comprehend my words. Does it make me sound like I shrugged off her claim? Will what I said make her hate me? I mean, I don’t understand my own words. Am I jumping too quickly into trusting Salem with Midge? 

One tear strolls down V’s cheek. To my surprise, her lips curl upward. She clings on to her pearls. “You make a good point, ‘Brina. Sorry….my emotions have become so uncontrollable lately. I’m lucky to be in possession of these pearls. And I’m lucky to have you, ‘Brina, for you have been a good friend to me. I will remember your kindness towards me, always.” Her words are genuine. I can tell in her smile. Whatever nauseous feelings I could not shake earlier are leaving me. I recognize now that I’m not the only one infected, V is too. We’re in this together. And we need one another, now more than ever.

V releases my hand so she can turn off the ignition. “Come on, we better get inside and join the others.” She starts to get out of the car, but I just take another moment to collect my thoughts. I can’t avoid this fate forever. Something will happen to Midge tonight, and I have to accept the consequences of what Salem does to her. All I can do is wait….and hope that Salem will be merciful. With that, I climb out of the car and follow my friend as we go to join the other Vixens.

We run through our performance as a unit. We chant at the same volume, clap and stomp on the chosen beats, move with the music. We don’t miss a cue. We don’t mess up one step. Our routine is going as it should be. There’s only one flaw to it all - Midge. Her steps are half a beat behind ours. Her cheering voice isn’t at full volume. Her commands are a raspy whisper. She looks pale. Sickly, to put it lightly, as I was earlier. A handful of girls theorize that I got her sick. That she contracted whatever I, allegedly, had. Others joke that she may be pregnant, that her ill-appearance may be a sign that she could be bearing a child. V believes that it may just be nerves. 

They’re all wrong, even V. Midge didn’t contract my sickness, she isn’t pregnant, and she’s not nervous. This is stage one of Salem’s plan. It’s begun, and now there’s no turning back.

The guilt sits on my brain. It pollutes my skin, making it burn up under my uniform. I want to rip it off, but V is already zipping up my top. This makeup caked onto my face feels heavy. I can’t sense Salem anywhere in the locker, and that’s just me assuming if he is even near the school. The Vixens are gossiping all throughout the locker room, they’re laughing and getting ready, they’re mourning a lost member of the Riverdale community. But my mind isn’t on Chuck, my thoughts aren’t urging me to socialize with the other girls. Midge is sitting across from all of us in the locker room, she looks greener by the minute. A hand rests over her stomach. Her eyes have dark bags under them. She could throw up right in front of all of us. What did Salem plague her with?

“Hey,” V has me face her. She runs her hands up and down my biceps, “don’t listen to the other girls. You didn’t make her sick. You’re not at fault here, ‘Brina.” She smiles at me, she still has no clue of what I’ve done. What Salem is doing. The Vixens speak the truth, I am making her sick. V has to know what’s going on.

“But I am.” I mumble. Her smile fades. She doesn’t get it, I don’t blame her the slightest bit. I glance over my shoulder at Midge, it’s only a matter of minutes before the next stage of the revenge plan could occur. Oh, what have I done? What have I gotten Salem into? I shouldn’t let Midge suffer!

“V….” my voice comes out so weak. I don’t sound like my cheerful self. I return my gaze back to my friend, I place my hands on her shoulders. I rush through my words, “I think….I think I made a mistake. And I can’t trust anyone to explain this to except for you….”

The conversation ends abruptly when the doors leading into the locker room swing open. We all turn and find three girls in leopard print and cat-ear headbands entering our space. The one leading them looks awfully familiar. Hang on…. this is the girl Archie was talking about back at Pop’s! The singer he has a crush on! She speaks on behalf of the trio, “Vixens, are you ready to go? Coach Clayton is about to send the football team out!”

Midge goes to stand up and almost teeters over. Tina rushes to her side to keep her steady. It’s now becoming apparent to everyone in the locker room that Midge is looking weak. Ginger addresses the trio, “Josie, we may have a problem.”

Josie, that was her name! She and the other girls with her hang their mouths in horror. “I was just about to say,” Josie comments directly to Midge, “you’re not looking too hot. What happened to you, girl?”

Midge produces a nasty cough. She fights to spit out an answer, “I…..I don’t know. But I’m….I’m not abandoning this school…..” She has to take a moment to pause so she can gulp in big breaths. Then, she looks around the room, even at me and V. Her eyes water, her lips tremble. “I won’t abandon my girls.” 

It’s the last she can manage to say before she breaks free from Tina. We all watch as she bolts to the stalls, covering her mouth along the way. Sounds of vomiting and sobbing fill the air. It frightens all of us in the room. It breaks my heart to hear it.

One of the girls behind Josie speaks up, “Great. Now we don’t have anyone to do the interlude for our performance. What the hell do we do, Josie?” The other girl nods at Josie with a worried look. We all stare at her worried.

Josie takes a couple of seconds to get it together. She whispers to the girls behind her, “We’ll get this sorted out. Don’t wig out on me.” then she turns to Ginger and Tina. “Well, don’t you have a back-up captain? Doesn’t Midge have someone who could replace her?”

“She wouldn’t let Tina or me take her spot.” Ginger voice. “We only know our parts, and we kind of are essential where she has us placed. I mean, I can try to….” She isn’t allowed to finish her sentence. Tina places her arm in front of her friend, as a way to hold her back, muttering, “It doesn’t matter, Ging. We’re screwed without Midge on the field.” The two cling to one another, everyone in the room is huddling together in uncertainty. I thought my desire to remove Midge would only deal with just Midge. But this isn’t solely affecting her, or me. It affects the whole team. It removes a sense of stability and direction. It destroys sisterhood.

Then, Josie speaks to me. “What about you, new girl?” This causes all of the team, even the girls behind Josie, to stare at me. Do they think…..have they caught on to what’s happening? Or are they…...do they think I can take her spot in the routine? I blink at all of them, my mouth opening and closing. My hands tremble. My teeth chatter. Is it just me or is the locker room getting colder? 

“I….” I stutter out. They’re expecting me to provide some sort of answer. What can I tell them? Can I even jump into Midge’s role? I’ve seen her movements, I’ve watched how she commands the spotlight. Her timing and her rhythm is on point. I could fake it - I could make everyone watching us believe that I know what I’m doing. But…..but did I have Midge out of the picture just to take her place? I want her to not torment me of V anymore, that’s all. I can’t be Midge. I can’t pretend to be her. 

The silence is growing, I need to respond to these girls. So, I say the first thing that comes to my mind, “I’m only in the background. I haven’t been on the team long enough. Like Ginger and Tina, I only know my part, not hers…..” I pause mid-sentence. The more I come to think on the matter, I recognize now that maybe I can’t replace Midge. It’s the truth, no matter how much it lets the others down. And we don’t find a solution, someone who can jump in---

An idea pops into my head. My eyes go over to V, the answer becoming clearer. “But V does.”

The room breaks out into nervous murmurs. Josie and her band give each other funny looks. V grabs for my wrist, noticing all of our eyes on her. “‘Brina….” she mutters, stumbling closer to me. 

“Trust me.” I whisper to her, then I speak to everyone else, “She taught me what I needed to know, I wouldn’t be suggesting her otherwise. I know tensions are rough between us, but….but I think V could do it. At least just for this performance.” No one responds right away. Tina and Ginger whisper to one another, not taking their eyes off of me and V. I watch as they both wander over to Josie and her band, as they huddle together. What could they be contemplating? Did I make a mistake by offering V as a substitute?

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” I hear V ask. I turn to face her, she looks all nervous. “They all know about my feud with Midge. I don’t want to cause further divide on this team.”

“You’re a good cheerleader, V.” I reassure her, forcing myself to smile. “If you helped me, you can lead these girls, even if it’s only for tonight.” I stop talking again, the doubt increasing in my head. My plan is getting murkier. What even was my goal? To put V in power? To have everyone fawn over her and me, instead of Midge? To free everyone from Midge’s reign? 

V leans her head off to the side, glancing over in the direction Midge ran off to, I can still hear her purging out what’s plagued her. My heart pounds faster, my arms freeze. V brings her eyes back to meet mine. “What was that thing you wanted to tell me, ‘Brina? Does it have to do with Midge?” My throat goes dry. I can feel the sweat forming on my hairline. I should tell V the truth. I should get her to help me. I need to check on Midge. Maybe convince Salem to back out now and---

“Lodge.” Tina calls out, catching our attention. “You’ll fill in for Midge. Can you handle it?” V’s in shock, and so am I. So they do want her to lead us, even after her fight with Midge? That’s amazing! V glances back over at me, unsure of how to proceed. I grin and squeeze her hand, as a way of telling her,  _ It’s okay, you can do this _ . V turns to the others, taking a deep breath. “Okay.” 

The Vixens laugh and cheer in relief. Josie smirks, the other Pussycats bumping fists behind her. Tina reaches out for V, “Ginger and I will sing the interlude part, so all you have to do is dance in Midge’s place. And we’ll rotate on the chants.” V nods her head in agreement. Luckily, no one seems to oppose the arrangement, so that’s good news! I’m proud of her…..yet I feel so guilty. 

My head slowly rotates to where the stalls stand. Sobs echo against the walls. Has anyone else wondered if Midge is okay? Am I the only person in this room who is worrying about her wellbeing? Even though I caused her to be unwell?

“I should check on Midge.” Ginger informs the others, then she sprints off to the stalls. This might be my last chance, maybe my only chance, to see Midge before Salem steps in. “Hey, wait for me!” I call out, running to catch up to Ginger.

We both make hesitant steps towards the one filled stall. One light flickers above us. The room reeks of vomit. We spot Midge sprawled over the toilet, her head tucked into the tub, her arms gripped around the lid of the seat. She’s weeping in between the gags. 

“Midge?” Ginger tries to get her friend’s attention. It doesn’t work. She makes another attempt, “Hey…..Midge? Do you need someone to….”

“GO. AWAY.” The sound of her voice makes us jump back. She sounds like she’s in pain. Like she’s embarrassed. How could the mighty fall so quickly, so unexpectedly? 

Ginger starts to back away, grabbing for my arm. I free myself, telling Ginger, “It’s okay.” I continue to make my way over to Midge. I have to be careful here. Who knows how badly Salem could have infected her….and whether this sickness could infect anyone else. “Midge?” my voice comes out like a whisper. I’m standing behind her now, practically looming over her. I’m tempted to reach out to her, to have her look at me, sickness and all. No….I have to be smart about this. I need to craft a back-up plan. A way to heal Midge…..if she can get healed.

I lower down to her level. Her weeping stops, she only gasps for air now. Does she know I’m here? “Midge?” I reach for her shoulder.

“Sabrina….”

The tone of her voice doesn’t sound right. It’s not sickly, or angry, or upset. It’s calm. It’s….not like her. Before I can speak, she faces me. Her face is smoother, even with vomit trickling down her chin. Her eyes look brighter…..wait. Those aren’t her eyes. These are a blend of blue and green.

I freeze. I finally understand what’s going on here. And I don’t know how this could have happened. “Salem?” I mutter, I’m practically inaudible.

Using her face, he smiles. “It’s okay.” he tells me in her voice. “Go back to the team. I’ll take care of everything…..just like I promised.” I can’t say anything. I….I don’t even know what to say. How did Salem take over her body? Did her earlier possession from the Dark Lord inspire him? Is he capable of possessing another human being?

I need to talk to him, to convince him to leave Midge alone while he still can, but my thoughts are interrupted when Ginger grabs for me again. “Sabrina….come on. We have to go.” I don’t get up right away. I don’t take my eyes off of Midge….Salem…..who am I really looking at here? “Sabrina.” Ginger pleads. 

A tear rolls down my cheek. At this point, I have no choice but to rejoin the Vixens. I have to support V as she makes her debut as “captain”. I have to leave Midge with him. But what else can I do? What could I do to stop him now? The plan is in full motion, unable to be reversed.

With little hope, I follow Ginger out of the locker room, mentally preparing my course of action for what will come next.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

I don’t think I’ve seen the parking lot to the football field this packed since one of the Homecoming games back in high school. Families, a lot of faces I recognize, file out of their cars and shuffle in through the entrance in order to fight to get a spot in the bleachers. But I’m in no rush to get anywhere, and neither are Gladys or JB. The three of us decided to ride over together since FP left earlier to help Fred Andrews with something at the construction yard. For most of the afternoon, I’ve been looking up all I can on the Conways with what little wifi I have at the trailer park. JB was kind enough to lend me her tablet so I can conduct my research. So far, all that’s popped up for the Conways is older Register articles about the incident….which is what I’ve already read from the town library. Without getting much luck, I focused on Sheriff Howard, reading up on his leadership, what he accomplished, how he died. What could he have done that drove him to madness? When did he even start looking into the Reaper massacre?

The research started to drive me crazy, so I guess it’s a good thing I’m out and moving around. Besides, I want to support Sabrina as she appears on the field tonight. I still haven’t figured out if she will be sitting out of this “routine” or if she’ll be allowed to dance around with the Vixens. I wonder if the Vixens have changed their ways since my days at Riverdale High.

The field looks different in the night-time. It certainly looks more packed compared to when I first came back into town. Back then, I had no clue that Sabrina and I would become so connected to the Lodges. Well, that was all before Hal got his newfound freedom.

“Probably been a while since you’ve gone to a football game?” Gladys comes to my side, pulling me out of my train of thought. I stare out at the metal fence ahead of us. People continue to clump together to get through the little entrance.

I take my eyes off the gate and turn to Gladys. “Came here a few weeks ago with Sabrina, actually. It’s how Hiram and I got reunited.” My eyes wander off again, spotting that place from the distance where I stood with the girls just weeks ago. Where so much of my teenage self spent when I was hiding from the world, long before Hal entered my life. JB sneaks over to walk next to me. She takes my hand with a gracious smile, and I can’t help but return the gesture. It provides me with a bit more comfort….a bit more warmth. I’ll definitely need it here tonight.

The three of us make our way through the little entrance. I allow Gladys and JB to go in first, and I follow in behind. The bleachers are filling up rather quickly. It’ll be a miracle to get a seat, even if it’s for a dead football player, or to watch their daughters dance to some pop song. 

“You know,” I tell JB, recalling some of the happier memories in my head, “Your dad and I used to sit up on those bleachers and mock the Vixens during their cheer practices. We tried to act so sneaky about it, but we still wound up getting caught.” I wind up laughing at the thought of my past troublemaking with FP. “It was worth it everytime.”

The story seems to intrigue the young girl. “Were the cheers really that bad?”

“Jeebs, they’re cheers that originated from the 50s.” Gladys inputs, and….to my surprise. I face her as she continues to comment on the subject, “Yeah, they represent school pride, but they’re so outdated, it’s not even funny. They’re practically asking to be made fun of.”

I tilt my head at her, lifting my brow and forming a smirk. “You know the Vixen cheers?”

“You think I didn’t?” she snorts in glee. “FP taught them to me back before we got married. It’s how I stayed in shape when I was pregnant with the kids.” She steps out in front of me to point a finger at JB, “Especially this little stinker. She wouldn’t let me sit still for a moment, even while I was chasing her brother around the trailer.”

She walks backwards, not paying attention to the crowd around her. Not even to the person walking up to her from behind. I’m about to speak up, to tell her to look out, but she stumbles back. FP snakes his arm over to her shoulder, leaning in close. “BOO.” he teases, making her squeal. She steps out and twists around to punch him in the arm, all while cackling. He pulls her closer into him, cupping her face to kiss her. 

“Sorry, babe. I couldn’t resist.” FP mumbles against her lips.

“I’ll kill you later, jerk.” I hear her say as she coils herself around him. He spots me and JB, and he gives us a little wave. “Did Jughead ride over with you and Fred?”

“Nah. He walked over from the library. I think he’s….” FP peers out into the swarm of Riverdale citizens around us. One area of the bleachers catches his eye. He lifts his hand and nods his head. We follow his path, finding FP and Gladys’s son leaning up against the rails off to the side of the bleachers. I can barely see his face underneath the mop of black hair squirreled under his beanie.

Gladys raises her voice to call out to her son. “Hey, Mister Antisocial! You gonna come sit with us?”

The son stays quiet at first, crossing his arms. “Fine right here, mom. You and Dad go enjoy yourselves. Besides, you two have Jeebs to keep you company.” Gladys pouts, resting her head against FP’s chest. He rocks her back and forth in his arms. I know it’s meant to be a joking gesture, they probably don’t mind their son not wanting to join them. But with everything going on…..wouldn’t it be safest for all of the Joneses to stay together?

My eyes wander around the area, seeing so many faces. Half of these people here were in younger grades, but they, along with anyone else, wouldn’t remember who I am. I didn’t want anyone to remember me. And the longer I’ve been back….the more I regret that decision. I don’t mind the company of FP and Gladys, I couldn’t have asked for a better friendship with both of them and their daughter. I just wish there could be more people out here tonight, besides the Joneses, that would remember me and would want to talk with me.

Lucky for me, one person is here, standing all by himself near the place where I first saw him again. A soft smile forms on my face. I have to say, Hiram looks good tonight. He looks at peace. Like me, he’s only here for one reason - to support someone dear to him in the Vixens.

JB squeezes my hand. “Are you coming, Aunt Ali?” I redirect my attention down to the young girl, then back up to FP and Gladys. They’re heading over to the bleachers, waving for me to come with them. I should go, I should join them. But maybe…..

I let go of JB and send her off to her parents. “You save me a seat. I’ll be with you shortly.” I watch the girl hurry over to the older Joneses. Then, when there’s a break in the flooding in of people, I head in his direction.

He doesn’t see me at first, but that’s fine. I kind of want to surprise him. He’s leaned up against the tall fence, glancing out at the empty field. I lean my head towards the fence, coming into his view. “Hey there, stranger.”

Hiram takes his time to face me. His lips curl upward, his eyes light up. “I figured it’d be you coming over. And frankly, I’m glad it’s you.” He presses his head more into the fence, letting out a huff. “I’m only standing over here because I don’t want to embarrass Veronica. Don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself, or to her.”

With a family like the Lodges, you would expect them to want to display their wealth and to conquer everything in their view. But the Lodges aren’t that rich family. Hiram and his daughter behave in a secluded manner, beyond the fact that they follow the Church of Night. Even then….why would he fear of embarrassing his daughter for simply wanting to support her in her passions?

“How would you?” I ask, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “You’re out here for the same reason I am.” He doesn’t believe what I’m saying, his eyes dart down to the ground. Okay, one on hand, I get it. If you’d ask me during my 25 years away if I would yell and cheer on someone dear to me at a school, I would’ve declined in a heartbeat. But being here in town, and spending so much time with Sabrina, it makes me realize that I have so much to live for. That I’m out there to express my gratitude to her. Sabrina is the reason I’m still breathing, the reason I want to get back out into the world. 

He needs to hear me out. So, I take one hand out of my pocket, and I lift it up, cupping the side of his face. I speak to him carefully, “She’d be happy that you’re here tonight. It shows that you care, deeply.” It takes a bit, but eventually Hiram brings his eyes back up to meet my own. It’s a soft expression, it’s one that I’ve seen so many times now…..but this time, it’s different. It’s more endearing, more nostalgic. His face goes red, and not due to the cold.

From the other end of the field, I spot a man in a blue tracksuit conversing with someone in formalwear. Is it almost time? The bleachers are filling up, and I can’t confirm if I can squeeze my way in to stand next to the Joneses. I should go, but I shouldn’t leave Hiram here by himself. Well….

I take my hand off of his face, moving it to grab for his own hand. I start to lead the way, “Come. We’ll cheer the girls on, together.”

“Alice, it’s honestly okay. I’ll be alright out here….” I hear him attempt to protest. He’s slowing his pace behind me, practically dragging his feet. While walking backwards, I twist my head to face him, putting on a big pout for fun.

“Excuse me.” I tease him, “Out of the two of us, I was the one who spent nearly 25 years in self-isolation. I think you can survive one hour displaying fake enthusiasm for a high school football team. Okay, Manhattan?” That seems to convince him. Score one for me. I trade the pout for a shit-eating grin. Hiram chuckles. 

I focus back on my path towards the bleacher staircase. I don’t realize how much Hiram has caught up to me until he comes in close. His free hand hovers over my hip. His chin is over my shoulder, his mouth close to my ear. In a low voice, so no one else can hear, he whispers, “Whatever you say, Acid Queen Alice.”

I have to suppress a giggle as I scurry up the bleacher steps. I spot Gladys waving at me from one of the higher levels. FP is on the other side of her, giving JB a one-arm side hug. I tug Hiram up step after step, my heart pounds with the increasing elevation. 

There’s just enough room for the two of us at the end cap of this row. I make my way up the last few steps, then I claim the space, with Hiram trailing close behind. Gladys removes her Serpent jacket and FP’s ball cap from the metal seats. “Worried we lost you down there, witch.” she comments. She notices Hiram standing at the end cap on the other side of me, and she smirks. “Well, this is a sight I thought I’d never see.”

Hiram rolls his eyes at her. “Don’t get your hopes up.” The snarky attitude fades when he spies JB waving hello to him. His face stays neutral up until he returns the gesture, his lips curling up. I nudge my elbow into his ribcage softly, and I shoot him a wink, indicating,  _ See? I told you this wouldn’t kill you.  _ A couple of rows down, a handful of parents glare at me. They whisper to their partners in hushed voices. I shouldn’t try to listen, I shouldn’t even care about what they’re potentially saying about me and Hiram. Why would I?

Okay, I’ll admit, the way I’ve acted when I’m with him makes me question everything too. Old me would never let anyone touch her, let alone get close to her. Old me wouldn’t want to develop feelings. Old me would never grow to like Hiram. But I’m not her anymore. I’m in new territory, in a new mindset. Does that mean….am I…. Am I starting to catch feelings for Hiram Lodge?

Out on the field, a whistle blows. A marching band begins to play the school fight song. A flood of blue and white rushes out from the school, led by the man in the blue tracksuit. The sight of the football players sparks the bleachers packed with people cheering like crazy. The boys on the field wave up to their parents above. Behind them, a pack of girls shake their poms, chanting  _ Go Bulldogs! _ at the top of their lungs. I have to squint real hard to find Sabrina in that hoard of girls. It takes a second or two, then I finally see her light blond hair and black headband. A smile forms on my face. I wave out to her, and Sabrina glows on the field. Everyone whoops and hollers as we watch the football coach, the school principal, and a trio of girls in leopard print assemble on the stage. Tom Keller’s there, and….is that Sierra McCoy with him? Wow, she’s grown up alot. I guess being Mayor of Riverdale has done her justice. 

The Vixens begin to lead the crowd in simple chants. I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from throwing out a sarcastic comment. But I’ll give the girls credit - these chants are certainly better than the ones I got stuck listening to back in the 90s. And….to my surprise, the one who’s leading the Vixens is not that Midge girl Sabrina mentioned. It’s Hiram’s daughter. She looks so confident out there, she fits the role of leader organically. 

I lean in to him, having to practically raise my voice over the chanting so he can hear me. “Did you know Veronica was leading the cheerleaders tonight?”

He takes a second for the noise to die down. Then, he admits, “I didn’t.” He sounds shocked, which I wasn’t expecting. Wait….so Veronica suddenly rallying the Vixens together is new? Then what happened to the old captain? The one giving Sabrina trouble? 

I do my best to determine who’s who on this new team of Vixens. I’ve seen a good amount of these girls when they show up at Pop’s after cheer practice. I’ve come to memorize their names, since they’ve become frequent visitors. And I’ve seen this Midge around the diner too. Some days, she’ll be gossiping with her friends over a plate of chicken tenders and fries. Other days, she’s under the arm of her boyfriend, the boy who ate my pie that first week, as they blissfully share a milkshake. I have to recall in my head what the girl even looks like. Brown pixie cut hair. Light blue eyes. Innocent face. Yeah, that’s what she looks like. But out of all these girls on the field, out of everyone in these bleachers….. Not one face or strand of hair matches hers. 

There’s a dull ache in my head. A dryness in my throat, in my nose. A sense that whatever rested in my stomach could rise up and come out of my mouth at any moment. I make myself breathe in and out to soothe this uneasiness. I must be breathing too loudly, because it catches Hiram’s attention. He loses his optimistic expression, trading it for an anxious glance. I let out one last huff of air, then I lift my hand up slightly, shaking it. I would tell him what I’m experiencing. Heaven, I’d even inform Gladys and FP on the matter. But now isn’t the time. Right now, I need to shake off whatever I have and focus on Sabrina. I’m here for her. I need to be here for her, physically and mentally.

The man in the formal suit taps on the microphone, it’s jarring to hear. The crowd settles down, the chanting ceases. We all look up to see this man speaking to us. “Welcome, folks. I would like to thank everyone who made tonight possible. For our whole town, our community to come together under such an unfortunate tragedy…” The headache comes back, so does the upset stomach. I start to zone out, the words coming over the speaker like Charlie Brown’s school teacher.

“Hey, you doing okay, witch?” Gladys whispers to me. I drag my eyes over to meet hers. I can feel sweat trickling down my back. I can’t tell if my skin is heating up or chilling. She takes note of my appearance, “You’re kinda pale right now. Those allergies back again?” To be honest, I don’t know how or why I’m coming down with something. 

The speaker gestures to the side of him, “Now, please rise, remove your caps, and honor our great country for the National Anthem, performed by our very own Miss Josie McCoy.” The whole pack of people rises to their feet, placing their hands over their hearts. On the stage, the girl leading the small trio, I’m guessing it’s Sierra’s daughter, takes the mic.

Her voice enchants the crowd, singing the iconic lyrics in a pleasant tone. Everyone stops to watch her, their minds going blank. Yet, I can’t shake off this sudden sickness. When was the last time I had this unpleasantness? How come it’s so strong? And….and where is this Midge girl? Why is she not with her team---

No. Wait. Hal wouldn’t target her. Would he? How would he have any idea of who the girl is, what she’s done. But there was her boyfriend, Moose. He went after the pair and only wreaked havoc on the boy. Is it possible he’s after her again? Was she the true target, and not her boyfriend. Okay, I need to calm down. It’s simply a reach, a conspiracy theory, to call it that. I’m paranoid and working myself up over nothing--- 

A high-pitched scream rings in my ears. The scene in front of me flickers in and out between black, going to….. There’s a girl with her back glued to a set of steel doors. Are those lockers? I’m zooming in, going back out, the girl cries for help. It’s hard to see in this room, the only light comes from the moon peeking in through the windows. And the girl….there’s blood everywhere. She can’t fight off what’s happening. Is this….am I….. Wait. The girl, she looks familiar. Brown hair. Light eyes. Midge. Oh no, where is Midge? Why is she hurt? Who is….

Hal.

HAL.

The visions cut out, my knees go out. I almost collapse to the floor. My limbs practically go numb. My eyes and my nostrils have blood coming out of them. I don’t even notice that Sierra’s daughter has stopped singing, that everyone around us is applauding. But I could care less about my state. I’m more preoccupied with Midge, and HIM. Where is this happening? How did he find her? 

The back of my thighs hit the cold bleachers, I let out a whimper. It catches the attention of the people around me. The people in the crowd murmur to one another, not doing anything to help me. But not Hiram and the Joneses. “ALICE.” Gladys grabs for my elbow. Hiram keeps a steady hold on my waist so I don’t completely go to the floor. JB starts to panic, “Mom, Dad, what’s happening?” FP has to hold her back so she can stay safe.

I start to violently cough. Hiram cups my face. He speaks to me calmly, “Alice, can you hear me? Nod your head if you can.” Blood continues to drip down my nose, I feel like it’s coming out of my ears too. Everything’s all drowsy, my head is swirling. I can taste the metallic iron of my blood building up in my mouth. I give him a weak nod. Gladys crouches down next to me, securing my other side as Hiram continues to bring me back to reality.

“What is it?” Gladys whispers nervously to him. “What the hell just happened to her?”

I hack up some blood, it’s like my insides could rise up and leak out of my mouth. “He’s here.”

It’s not much of a description. It doesn’t tell them who I’m referring to, where they are. But it does enough, because Hiram and Gladys, and even FP all exchange looks. They know I’m referring to Hal.

“Oh shit….” FP mutters.

Hiram tosses my arm around his shoulders. He tells the Joneses, “We have to go. NOW.” With swift motion, he’s able to get me back onto my feet. He and Gladys work together to get me out of that tight area, free from the crowd. FP yells at everyone around us, “MAKE ROOM. LET US THROUGH.” My coughing increases, more blood stains my nostrils, my eyebags. My legs somehow move down the steps with Hiram and Gladys guiding me down, FP and JB following close behind us.

We make it down the steps, hitting the running track that divides the main field from the bleachers. I can hear FP direct his daughter, “Jellybean, go stay with your brother. DO NOT move until we get back.”

“No, wait!” JB protests, running to catch up to all of us. “Ali needs help! I promised to help her---”

“JELLYBEAN, NO.” FP barks back. Gladys and Hiram both stop to witness the conversation. Everyone standing on this track is giving all of us dirty looks. FP kneels down in front of his daughter and lowers his voice, “Look, kiddo. I know you do. But this isn’t like going to Thornhill or reading books for research. We’ll take good care of her, okay?” Gladys lets me go so she can grab her husband. All of my body weight is onto Hiram now. I scan the crowd, looking out onto the field. Some of the Vixens watch us in confusion. From that distance, I spot Sabrina. Her eyes widen at me. She goes to open her mouth, but clamps it shut.

“Sabrina…” I sound haggard. No….I can’t leave her. I can’t abandon her like this. But Hal….

FP and Gladys turn, and this time, FP acts as the other anchor. “Come on, we have to go.” I produce another horrible cough, watching Sabrina and the other Vixens shrink the further we move away.

We’re hustling to get to the parking lot. Well, Gladys is making a run for her car. FP and Hiram are struggling to catch up while also making sure I don’t collapse on them. Some of my strength returns, the numbness disappearing, so I can at least move my feet a bit easier. We fly through the parking lot, zooming past one row of cars, then another, and another. We make it back to the Jones Family car, our pace slows down. The closer we get, the more I’m able to free myself from Hiram and FP’s hold of me. Granted, I still don’t trust myself quite yet to be functioning on my feet.

Gladys digs for her car keys in her Serpent jacket, “FP, did you leave that rifle somewhere in the car?”

FP’s a bit confused, he raises his hands and he stands there with his mouth hanging. “Left it at home?” Gladys doesn’t engage in any kind of response. She steadies her grip on her keys, then she moves to the passenger’s side of the car, opening the door and sending her upper half inside. 

“I’m sorry,” Hiram butts into the conversation, “but how exactly is a man-made rifle going to take down a decades-old demon?”

FP rolls his eyes at the other man. “It’d be better than nothing! But if I’d known that we would go demon-hunting tonight, I would have shoved it into the trunk,” He pauses for a moment to place one hand on his hip, the other going through his hair. I hear him mumble, “or in the back seat somewhere….”

Gladys jumps out of the car suddenly, scaring me. I have to fight back the want to vomit all over this paved parking lot. I stumble a bit into Hiram, he secures his hand around my waist. I don’t really pay attention to what Gladys has in her hands until she exclaims, “Good thing I brought these.” I stare at the objects in her hands for a solid moment. Are those knives? They look too ancient to be used in modern times, and they certainly aren’t like the pocket knives I used to scare kids off with back in my Serpent days. In fact, these knives look like they came straight out of those  _ Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles _ cartoons. Probably because they are.

FP’s eyes go big. “Babe….when were you gonna tell me you had a pair of sai swords?”

She swings her swords around with a bright smirk on her face. “These have been in my family for ages. No one else laid a finger on them, so I…..I kinda took them with me when I moved here.” She slams the car door shut and walks over to us. She brings her attention directly to me, “And now….they’re about to be put to good use. Ready to go demon-hunting, witch?”

It’s a heavy-loaded question, I will admit. And with this thing I’m dealing with, I’m not sure if I can even put in a hundred percent effort. But someone has to do it. Someone has to keep Hal away from Sabrina.

So, I look at Hiram, then FP, then Gladys. I swallow back some building blood in my throat, then I finally speak up, “Let’s go get this fucker.”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

I’m shaking out here on this field. The wind has picked up, and it doesn’t help that these uniforms didn’t come with warmer clothing options, or just an extra set of layers. But so far, no one is questioning Midge’s absence on the field. Everyone’s distracted by Principal Weatherbee’s speech, by Josie’s singing. I play along, placing my hand over my heart and staring at the flag when I need to, leading the crowd on in our school chants like I should. And V is doing a great job leading all of us. It’s still a shame that I never got the chance to tell her what was going on. And why I feel so sick.

I still do, long after I left Midge behind in the locker room. I’m fighting to keep myself distracted by the cheers, by following the team’s motions. But my mind is still on Midge, on Salem. Even with Josie’s voice booming over the loudspeakers, I swear I can hear the faintest series of screams echo in the distance. My nostrils feel dry when Josie stops singing the National Anthem. My head aches too. I follow the Vixens in leading chants again, rattling my poms up and down.

Something catches my eye in the crowd, all the way up in the bleachers. MAKE ROOM. LET US THROUGH. It sounds like Jughead’s dad….did his sister get sick? His mom? No….it’s Ali getting carried down the stairs by V’s dad and Jughead’s mom, with Mister Jones and Jellybean trailing behind. I can’t quite hear what’s going on or why they’re leaving so suddenly. What happened? Ali turns to search for me…… My poker face disappears. My mouth falls open, then goes shut. I’m horrified at what I see. Ali has a severe nosebleed. There’s some fluid coming out of her eyes, out of the corners of her mouth. She looks like a walking skeleton. When did Ali get sick? Did Salem infect her too? She moves her mouth, I don’t hear her voice, but from what I can make out…..she’s calling for me. She says my name, then she and the other parents disappear.

I have to get off this field. I have to find Midge, get her away from Salem, and get Ali away from here too. My feet are frozen in the grass, my arms fall to my sides, I can’t move. My legs could give out on me any moment. I can barely hear what Weatherbee, Mayor McCoy, and Coach Clayton are saying, my brain won’t allow me to concentrate on the words being said. It’s basically the same speech they gave to us earlier in the week, and that feels like such a long time ago. 

My eyes scan the crowd, what if Salem has finished his work? Is he disguised as someone out here watching us? The other Vixens around me don’t pick up on my unease, not even V. She has a bright smile on her face, she really is taking this leadership seriously.

Only one person has it in them to look at me. Moose. He tilts his head to one side of the row of Vixens, then the other. He looks worried, and for a valid reason. Over Coach Clayton’s voice, he mouths to me,  _ Where’s Midge? Is she okay? _ I’m too scared to respond back because I might end up breaking down if I admit what I’ve done. The optimist in me hopes that Salem is only scaring her into leaving me and V alone. The realist in me knows that it may already be too late. The situation feels like Schrodinger’s Cat, except the cat has a mouse in the box with it. To eat or not to eat, that’s the question I don’t think I want to have the answer for. I can’t leave Moose hanging here, so I decide to shrug my shoulders at him to indicate uncertainty. He’s disappointed, and now, I hate myself for even having looked over at him in the first place. I hate that I dragged Salem into my mess. I hate dragging everyone into my problems, and I hate that I can’t fix the problems myself. 

My senses come back to me, starting with the obnoxious amount of applause coming from the bleachers, the brightness of the field lights, the bitter cold biting at my skin. There’s a shuffling of people around me, the football team and the adults are starting to clear the field. It’s time for the routine.

One of the girls bumps into me, throwing me back into reality. I have to snap out of this. And I can’t let V down. She sees me from her new position, where Midge should be. “Sabrina, come on!” she waves, beckoning me to take my place. I swallow the building lump in my throat, my arms swing up and down nervously. Unfortunately, Midge and Salem will have to wait.

I turn my back to the crowd, crossing my poms behind me. I take a deep breath. Showtime.

The music kicks in, Josie and her band serenade the audience with the opening vocals for  _ Sugar Sugar _ . They love it, and the real show hasn’t even started yet. On the first verse, the Vixens take the center of the field, facing the audience with bright smiles. The corners of my mouth sting and ache, I want to cry, to run off and go grab Midge. But I have to maintain appearances for now. I can’t let V down or ruin her big moment. Her movements are identical to Midge’s original moves. Her timing is spot-on. It’s almost as if Midge was never a member on the team, or the one leading the dance in the first place. 

We go into the first chorus, making parallel lines with a gap in the center. The audience is clapping in beat with Josie and her band. In our rows, we shake our poms and sway our hips. People whoop and holler when V struts her way down the middle of our lane. Ginger and Tina follow behind her and act as her backup, the way they would if Midge was here. V spots me wedged in between two other Vixens, and she shoots me a glowing grin and wink. No one has a frown on their face, not even Coach Clayton or any of the football players. Well….only one football player isn’t grinning from ear to ear….

Moose really is trying to stay positive, he doesn’t want the others to fret. But looking at him wounds me. I can hear his thoughts going through my head, even if I didn’t use a spell to read his mind. He doesn’t understand why Midge didn’t show. He’s worried that the person who attacked him may come back…. No. Oh no. He thinks the attacker may be back, but not for him. No no no no NO!

One of my nostrils dampens, it stings like a raw wound. My head feels light, and I think I’m getting dizzy. I’m having trouble breathing. The girls are moving to go to the interlude part of the song, but I’m frozen where I’m standing. Girls bump into me, hissing at me to dance along. My smile is long gone. I’m no longer masking my pain, my fear. Salem might end up killing Midge, and I can’t let Moose suffer. I can’t bare this guilt any longer.

“‘Brina?” V runs over to me. Ginger and Tina have moved up to the stage with Josie and are performing the interlude lyrics. V reaches out and touches my arm. “Are you okay, girl? What’s wrong?” I glance over my shoulder back at Moose. He’s glancing around the field nervously, hoping that Midge may show up and rejoin the Vixens for the last part of the dance. He doesn’t get that….that she may not end up appearing at all tonight. “‘Brina?” V calls for me again.

I look her dead in the eye. With a cracking voice and a broken heart, I tell her, “I have to go. I’m so sorry, V.” Then, I back up one step, then another. V’s hand falls at her side, and I run away from the Vixens, heading straight to Moose and the football players. This was a mistake, I never should have asked Salem to take care of Midge. He’s only going to do what he would have done to Moose if I hadn’t intervened. He’s going to repeat what he did to Chuck. How could I have been so stupid? There may be a chance that she could still be alive, and worse case, I could use a necromancy spell to bring her back….but at what cost? Why should I have to put myself, and her and Moose, through that level of torture? Time is running out, and I need to get back to the locker room and---

I practically collide into Moose, letting out a gruesome cough. “Woah!” he catches me, taking a hold of my arms. A couple of the Bulldogs laugh and point at us. Moose glares down each side of the row to shush them, then he looks down at me, “Sabrina…..” I start wheezing, it’s getting harder to breathe, and my nose may be bleeding again. Moose starts to pick up on this, commenting, “Jesus, you don’t look so good.”

“Mason!” Coach Clayton barks at Moose from the other end of the huddle of Bulldogs. “What the hell is going on down there?” Another cough erupts out of me, this time a bit of blood comes lands on the field. My arms are beginning to go numb, I could lose my balance at any moment.

“Out of my way, neanderthals!” a new voice enters the conversation. I look over my shoulder….it’s V! She commands for Moose to take my arm and throw it over his shoulders. “We need to get Sabrina to the locker room. She’s sick.” she announces with her booming voice. I can’t help but smile, she’s going to help me! But….but what about her performance? What about leading the Vixens? 

V nods for Moose to lead the way. He does so, helping her carry me away from the huddle, heading in the path of the locker rooms. He calls out to Coach Clayton, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” The Bulldogs make some remarks as we pass them, but I don’t pay any attention to what they say. Josie’s voice and the cheering from the bleachers fades the further away we get. I keep coughing and worrying that more blood may come out. I wonder if I have what Ali got this morning after being around Salem…. Maybe she still has it, or maybe whatever I’m going through because of Salem is affecting…. 

“You don’t have to keep playing up the sickness, Sabrina.” Moose mutters and tries to catch his breath. I glare up at him. Does he think I’m faking this? I don’t have time to ask him, because he removes my arm from his shoulders with a huff. I wind up putting all of my weight onto V, I latch onto her for dear life. I’m shaking from the cold, I’m glancing back at the Vixens from the other end of the field. Moose points over to the gymnasium building ahead of us, “We should hurry up and find Midge. If that freak from earlier---”

“No one’s going to hurt her!” V interjects rather sharply. “The whole town’s packed onto the football field! How could your attacker from the other night get away with hurting Midge in this crowd?” Moose runs his hands through his hair, turning away from us. My eyes water up, my nostrils are clogging up from the blood. I try to stay quiet, to not draw attention from Moose….but it catches V by surprise. And not in a good way. I think she may have an idea of what I’ve done.

She takes my face into her hands, looking petrified and skeptical. She speaks to me in a low voice, so Moose doesn’t hear, “You know something about Midge, ‘Brina, don’t you? Was that what you were going to tell me back in the locker room?” I glance over at Moose briefly. He’s still staring at the building. Good. I place my hands on V’s shoulders, preparing myself to confess everything to my friend in a whisper.

“I sent Salem after Midge!” I rush my words. V opens her mouth in shock, but I need her to listen before she comments on any of this. “I asked him to make her gone, but I did it believing he wouldn’t act the way he did with Chuck! I made a mistake, V! I think Salem was the one who attacked Moose the other night, and now he’s using my request to complete his plan and….and….and I think he’s going to kill Midge! Because it was supposed to be her, not Moose!”

“What’s this about Midge?” I hear his voice break. Oh no. Did he just hear everything I say? V and I both turn to Moose, he’s beginning to tear up. “You think Midge was the original victim, not me?” My heart pounds uncontrollably. My head is whirling, I can’t see straight. Poor Midge, and poor Moose. How did I not take Moose’s feelings into consideration? I was so blinded by my own anger that I never once came to understand that my need for revenge would hurt Moose as well.

V sends me a worried look, raising her eyebrow. I find some strength to push myself up, not leaning on her so much. I have to tell Moose something, I can’t send him into any further panic. And frankly, I need to acknowledge the damage I created. 

I fabricate a response, speaking to him slowly, “I’m afraid you might be right. I’ve had a hunch building since your accident, Moose. That’s why I panicked during our interview. Sa…..your attacker wanted Midge, not you.” I could say more, but I just clamp my mouth shut. Moose starts hyperventilating, his hands shake at his sides. He’s about to have a breakdown. More words won’t help either one of us at this point. I just confirmed his worst nightmare.

“Then he’s back.” he exclaims. “And he’s gonna kill her.” With that, Moose bolts off in the opposite direction, screaming for Midge in between fretful cries. Every time I breathe, I wish I hadn’t approached Salem about any of this. And now Moose will have to endure a life of guilt for not having saved his girlfriend in time, assuming something bad doesn’t….. Wait. If Salem’s still in there with Midge…..what does that mean for Moose?

“MOOSE, WAIT!” I find my voice, but by the time I call for Moose, he’s already disappeared into the building. My heavy breathing picks up again. No….no more blood. No more damage. I take V by the hand and I begin to sprint in the direction where Moose has just gone. I think out loud to her as we run, “Now might be a good time to use your darker powers, V. If you find Salem, use them on him.”

“Woah, ‘Brina, hold on!” V tugs at my arm, causing me to stop in my path. She grips onto my bicep, “Are you sure about this?” I’m getting antsy, and all standing here in the freezing cold is going to do is take time away from saving Midge’s life, and Moose’s life too. 

“What choice do I have, V?” I wince. “Midge doesn’t deserve the same fate as Chuck Clayton! Salem will give that to her, and I can’t allow that! Please….just help me stop him. I won’t ask anything more from you.” Her eyes go soft. She appears less irritated and lost, growing more perceptive of the situation at hand.

She removes her hand from my bicep and takes my hand back into hers. “Okay.” she nods her head. “Then we better get a move on. If we’re lucky, Salem is acting merciful and waiting for us to give the killing order. Which we won’t.” From there, we make a move for the entrance to the gymnasium side of the school. 

My thoughts race through my head as my feet glide over the pavement, over the cement. I could have approached Ali from the beginning. I could have received advice from Jughead, or Archie, or Moose. I acted weak. I resorted to the ill advice of my familiar….isn’t he supposed to guide me in a good way? He knows the consequences following Chuck, following Moose. He knows I would never tolerate the same level of torture. Perhaps he is merely giving Midge a scare.

I just hope V is right.

XXXXXXXX

**ALICE**

If you were about to break into a high school late at night in effort to go hunt down a demon, bets are you would sneak in through the locker rooms during a game or a pep rally, if you can clear through the crowds. In our case, we can’t break into the locker room without catching someone’s attention, especially if that someone happens to be the goddamn Sheriff of Riverdale. That’s why we decide to go in through one of the classroom windows on the first floor of the school. We scurry along the brick walls single file, it’s easier than going two-by-two. Also, I’m more able to move on my own now without collapsing from a coughing attack. Gladys and FP lead the way for us, staying low to the ground. Hiram acts as the group caboose, making sure that 1) no one from the pep rally is following us, and 2) I don’t need any assistance. I’m tempted to protest, to argue that I’ll be fine, I am fine. But with Hal on the loose somewhere in that school, and with how nasty my reaction to his attack was this time around, who knows what could happen to me next?

We don’t head for the front of the school, just in case any of the Riverdale PD are watching by the entry steps. We need to get in where there are lockers near by….where could give us easiest access? A window appears in our view, peering into an empty classroom. Gladys motions for all of us to crowd around her, pointing with two fingers at the window. 

I give her a sturdy nod, telling the group in a whisper, “This could work.” I go over the game plan with the other three, “So, the moment we get in, we have to stay close to the lockers. That’s where I saw the girl. And if we find her….we find him. Got it?” Hiram nods firsts, then the Joneses. Good. We’re all on the same page.

FP jumps out and gets to work on prying this window open. He tugs up, grunting through the process, he presses almost all of his bodyweight into the window. The attempt fails. “FP…” I call out to him. Although, I think his heart’s in the right place, he does realize that…..Hiram and I are witches, right? 

He goes at it again. Nothing. Eventually, FP sighs, pushing away from the window, “Damn it!” I call his name again, this time with a bit more authority. He whips his head at me, “WHAT?”

I roll my eyes at him before glaring down at the window. Then, with a flick of my hand, the window clicks open. It slides up a few inches with quite a creak. Another wave of nausea runs through me, I have to fight the urge to let my knees crumble on me. 

FP tilts his head at what just happened. He looks a little embarrassed now. “Oh, right.” He goes back to the window and lifts it the rest of the way up. He jumps in first, landing on the ground of the classroom with a thud. He turns back to face the rest of us, waving for us to climb through. “Alright, let’s go.” 

Gladys goes first. She hands her sai swords to FP and slides in with ease. Hiram and I straggle behind, I’m doing my best to keep my second wave of sickness from surfacing. He looks at me, waiting for me to go. I let out a cough, “You go first.” He hesitates for a moment, then he makes the grand leap. During that time, my coughing worsens. Another clump of mucus and blood comes out of me, landing on the grass. I can feel something trickling out of my nostrils again.

“Alice,” Hiram hisses, “Come on!”

I don’t want to argue back….well, more like I can’t, since I’m coughing up a storm here, and I really have no time to deal with Tom Keller’s goonies. So, in spite of this sickness, I build up some energy to hobble over, swing one leg through, then another. My boots hit the linoleum floor, I slide off the windowsill, almost falling onto my knees. FP catches me by the stomach, I could hurl right here.

“Jesus, Ali,” FP mutters, watching me in agony, “you really got it bad.” He snakes an arm around my waist to keep me upright, and we move slowly towards Gladys and Hiram. I can’t make it five steps without my limbs going numb. The visions pop up again, the sounds of this poor girl screaming making my eardrums ache. Blood comes out of my nostrils faster now, it’s coming out of my eyes too. Whatever Hal’s doing, his affect on me is getting stronger. It’s making me weaker.

FP begins to panic. “Ali?”

“I’m fine.” I grunt. The vibration of my voice causes me to cough again, this time a little blood dribbles down my chin. FP’s eyes widen in horror.

Gladys taps him on the shoulder. “You get her cleaned up.” Then, she turns to Hiram, “You come with me. We’ll check the place out, see if he’s around.” He doesn’t move a muscle. I think he’s scared to leave me behind with FP, maybe he doesn’t think we can fend off Hal by ourselves with FP’s lack of magic and mine…..weaking. I don’t blame Hiram, I don’t want to split up the group. We shouldn’t be splitting up anyway. But I trust Gladys to be a good scout, and I trust Hiram to give me a signal if trouble is nearby, and…..damn it, I really need to get my act together, now more than ever.

I nod at Hiram. “It’s okay. FP and I will be right behind you.” I mutter, doing my best to sound optimistic. His expression lightens. He returns an understanding nod of approval to me, then he goes to help Gladys unlock the classroom door. A few moments of silence pass, I can hear my heartbeat pick up. Then, the door swings open, creaking all of the way. Gladys and Hiram smirk at one another in triumph. FP and I watch as the two sprint out into the dark hallway. We wait another second or two, then FP carries me out the door.

I haven’t walked down these hallways in ages. It looks so different now, it’s much more updated with the modern times. Okay, it doesn’t look all that different aside from some paint touch-ups and fancier lockers, but I can’t see that good in the dark right now. I mean, I could if I didn’t feel like throwing up every five seconds. I pity Gladys and Hiram for having to leave me behind. I pity FP for getting stuck with cleaning me up. But he isn’t throwing a fit over it. He’s being a good sport, stepping one-two one-two slowly over to the closest restroom in this hallway. He still has my arm over his shoulders, he still has an arm securing me, keeping me from falling apart. Why did I drag him into my mess? What was I thinking, I should have handled all of this on my own.  _ No. Rewind. Don’t think so negatively, Alice. You would be dead right now if the others weren’t around.  _

FP shoves the restroom door open, then he drags me inside, flickering on the lightswitch. The overhead lights go in and out until they can produce a full light. FP lets go of my waist and rests me up against the wall. “Wait here.” he tells me. I watch him go to the closest stall, kicking the door open with a huff. Is he checking for Hal? I’ll give FP credit, it’s a smart move, we should stay weary at all times in this situation. Nothing comes out of that stall, so he repeats the process with the next stall, and the next one, and the next one….

Something is begging to come out of my throat. I push myself away from the wall, stumbling over to the collection of available sinks. One cough echoes throughout the restroom when I grip my hands on the rim of the closest sink to me. The next cough sounds heavier, filled with mucus and other nasty fluids. The final cough…. Black and red blood splatters onto the ceramic, in the smallest of amounts. At this point, I don’t care if I die from this stupid sickness, or whatever Hal has controlling me, I want it gone. I don’t want to keep dealing with this anymore. 

“Ali…” FP comes up behind me and gently places his hand on my back. I paint the sink with more mucusy blood and black liquid. My eyes water at the cruel sensation. I don’t want FP to look at me like this. I don’t want him to see me as someone who could…. I hear him run over to the paper towel dispenser, snag a couple of towels, then go to the sink in front of me and turn the water on. “Hang on, we’ll get you taken care of.” he tries to sound encouraging as he waves the paper towel glob under the running water. The black and red mirage gets picked up by the water, swirling round and round until it disappears into the drain.

“FP, I’m fine.” I plead, to which he releases a frustrated sigh.

“No, you’re not.” He tucks a hand under my chin in effort to lift my face up to him, clutching the wet towels in the other hand.

“Please.” I’m reasoning with him, sounding like a cranky five-year-old child. “I can take care of myself! I don’t want you babying me---”

“AND I WON’T LET YOU DIE ON ME.” FP snaps back, shutting me up rather quickly. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use that tone of voice on me. It kind of scares me, but he’s not doing it out of cruelness. Still, I can feel my eyes enlarging, my mouth hanging. I think he’s picked up on it. As a result, he takes a deep breath before continuing, in a slightly less fearful tone of voice, “So, please….can you just stop being stubborn for five minutes and just let me help you?” His hand is starting to shake, his lips are quivering. He ends his rant with his voice cracking, “I won’t lose you because of this. I can’t lose my best friend.”

My eyes get a bit hazy. My gaze goes distant, it’s halfway staring at the wall and somewhat at FP’s shoulder. I don’t fight back, I don’t shove him away. I just let FP carefully dab the wet towels under my nostrils, allowing my mind to wander. Maybe he is right, I am acting stubborn. I’ve been so utterly stubborn, even while I was with Hal. If I had just let FP, or anyone else for that matter, jump in to provide their aid….would I even be in this mess? Would Sabrina still be in danger? Would those kids be dead?

I blank out for so long that I don’t realize that FP has finished cleaning up my face. He talks to me again, “I didn’t mean to yell at you, I’m sorry. I….I just….”

“You don’t have to apologize.” I jump in before he can finish, shrugging at him. “It’s alright. You’re only trying to help.” 

He brushes off the last of the blood with the sleeve of his flannel. He gives me a small smile, “Okay. You at least feel any better?”

I examine my face in the mirror. No more blood, for now, but my face has gone pale. My cheek bones are popping through. The dark roots of my hair are starting to stand out on my head, more than they did the first time I picked up on them here in Riverdale. I look dead.

“Yeah.” I wind up lying to him, only because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I stop staring at my horrifying reflection to look FP in the eye. “Thank you.”

He chuckles. “Not the first time I had to clean you up.” Not the first time…..wait, does he remember more than what I thought he did? All those nosebleeds I suffered from Hal’s attacks and killings back in high school? All the times I had to skip days of school because the aftermath was that severe, and FP played hooky also to look after me? He remembers all of those unpleasant times? I’m tempted to raise the question, but he answers for me. “Yeah, I remember. Quite ugly what you were dealing with? I thought it was just “female stuff”, or whatever….”

I find myself laughing at the comment, already feeling ten times better. “I wish they were just menstrual problems.” I tell him, releasing my grip on the sink. My knuckles develop some redness to them again when I flex out my fingers and wiggle them.

“You know,” FP follows up, “if you hadn’t told me that Sabrina wasn’t your kid, I would have thought your sickness got passed down to her, or something.” Hold on. What would Sabrina have to do with my condition?

I raise a brow at him. “Passed down to her? Sorry, I’m a little confused.”

FP steps around me to toss the damp and bloody towel bundle into the trash can. He runs his fingers through his hair, struggling to recall his memories. “I….I was gonna bring it up to you back the other day, but….your girl, Sabrina….she got a pretty bad nose bleed. Like the ones you used to have. Like the one you have now, but not as severe…..” My heart pounds at twice the speed it was at. Sweat forms on my hairline. When did Sabrina deal with a nosebleed? I can’t fathom the idea, I mean, she would have told me if she wasn’t feeling well. But, I also really haven’t been paying that much attention to her life right now, except for the recent week. She’s been in quite the strange mood since she began having troubles with cheer….

And Chuck. She looked pale that day I came back from seeing Chuck’s body in the forest. She couldn’t stop shaking. There was a ring of red under her nostril.

“We should go find the others.” FP interrupts my train of thought. I blink a couple of times, my brain going completely blank. Am I really ready to go through with this? Well, we’re here, there’s no going back. So I nod my head, mumbling an Okay, then I watch him hurry over to the door. He holds it open and allows for me to go out first.

The moment we’re back out in the hallway, Gladys and Hiram both round the corner from the far end of the hallway. They rush over to us, out of breath. FP begs the question, “Anything?” Gladys rests her hands on her knees, bending over to catch her breath. She shakes her head.

Hiram speaks on their behalf, “No luck. We’ve scanned every locker area in the main hallways.” Well, that’s not good. I swear, I saw Hal attacking that girl by a locker somewhere….

FP sighs, “Did he run off? You think he’s hiding somewhere else?”

Gladys stands up straight again, clutching onto her swords. “We’ve checked everywhere we could, babe.” Then, she turns to me, “I’m sorry, witch….” I stare at her quietly. Surely, there has to be more lockers somewhere in this---- The athletic locker rooms. Sabrina would have been in there, same with Hiram’s daughter. Of course, they’re cheerleaders! And so was Midge!

“What about the locker rooms?” I pipe up. The three stare at me, waiting for some form of an explanation. So, I tell them, “When Hal went after his victims, he never did them out in the open. He only reveals the corpses after he’s done with them. If Midge is somewhere getting….who knows what Hal has done to her….odds are she’s still in the locker room. She never went out with the Vixens at all.” The three don’t respond right away, and I don’t really expect them to. FP and Gladys stay silent, stewing over the information, and Hiram looks me dead in the eye.

“Then maybe he’s still there.” he voices, and he smiles. I’m relieved. He gets it. And so do FP and Gladys. For once this whole night, I feel more hopeful. I mean, I’m scared out of my mind to confront Hal in his true form after all these years, but this time….this time, I’m not alone. I’m not that scared, vulnerable Southside girl anymore.

Gladys makes a run for the other end of the hallway. “What the hell are we waiting for? Let’s go get him!” She leads the way, sprinting at full speed. FP keeps up with her pace, Hiram follows with a steady jog, I take the tail end. My heart’s pumping, kickstarting my adrenaline. I can hear the internal pep talk fueling me.  _ Sickness, what sickness? I could beat this demon up right now! You hear me, Hal? Do you know who I am? I’ll tell you who I am! I’m Alice Suzanna Smith! You messed with the wrong witch! So shove it, Hal--- _

Laughter amplifies in my ears, it echoes down the hall. I stop where I am. The laughter bounces back, louder this time. It’s him. But where? The hall is empty from where I’m standing. He could be behind me, or to the side of me, or anywhere. WHERE THE HELL IS HE? My head cranks over to the other side of the hall. Nothing. Am I losing my mind? Is all that blood loss causing me to hallucinate? No….no, I’m not going crazy. He’s here. I felt him. But where did he go? WHERE DID HE GO?

** _YOU KNOW WHERE I AM, ALICE. YOU’VE ALWAYS KNOWN._ **

The voice ripples down to the opposite end, it overpowers the audio of my surroundings. The whole vibe of him overtakes everything, including my attention. I barely hear the others calling for me, yelling for me to catch up. The voice causes the lights to flicker above me, making the whole hallway brighten. It dies down to halfway, then to some, then three quarters…..stopping in front of the bathroom, where FP and I just were. “Hal….” I raise my voice. There’s no response. The lights hum, still illuminating the path for me. My fists clench. That does it. 

“HAL!” 

I make a move for the bathroom, using some magic to send the door flying open. The lights go crazy in there when I enter. I hear the door slam shut behind me, hearing his laughter pick up. The booming sensation bounces against the bathroom stalls. Is he hiding in here? I send a gust of dark magic towards the first stall. The door falls off the hinges and collapses to the floor. It’s empty. “I’M NOT AFRAID OF YOU.” I do the same to the next stall. Nothing. “YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER, HAL.” The magic builds in my hands. I send a double whammy to the last two stalls, both of which are empty. I take a couple of steps back. I throw my hands up in despair, then they fall to my sides. A ripple sends the stalls shaking. I scream, “SHOW YOURSELF!”

The lights go out. A hazy pink and purple glows from the outside world through the window. The humming of the air vents whirs. He’s in here, he has to be. I can feel his energy from behind me. But he’s not going to get to me, not this time. I whip around rather quickly, ready to defend myself against….. There’s writing on the mirrors, in a dark shade of what looks like blood.  ** _FOLLOW ME DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE, ALICE_ ** , it reads. Well, he always had a flair for the dramatic. Below the sentence, an arrow points down to the sink…..no, something sitting above the sink. A goblet of some kind. What is he doing here?

Now my curiosity is getting to me. I hesitantly make slow steps to this goblet. His laughter echoes in the empty bathroom. “Hal….” I call out, “I know you’re in here. Come out and we can settle this peacefully, or I will hex your ass and make you appear. Which is it?”

** _That’s awfully demanding of you_ ** _ ,  _ his voice rings out. I’m inches away from this cup, and I’m starting to fear what's in that thing.  ** _I shouldn’t be listening to you anyways. I have a new witch at my side now. One more powerful than you ever were. _ ** I need to tune him out. He’s taunting me with self-doubt, but he just confirmed that he has a new witch. I’m praying to Satan that he isn’t referring to Sabrina, or Veronica for that matter.

** _But you can gain that power back, Alice. I can make you whole again. Make you better than you were before. _ ** I’m in front of the sink, peering down into this cup. The liquid inside is dark, it has no odor. Is it poison? An antidote to what Hal has plagued me with? Blood? I go to reach out for the cup, but I stop. My hand trembles out in front of me. I need to strategize here. He could tell me what’s in the cup, but how can I know if he’s telling me the truth? If it’s poison, I could live, or I could die, or….. I’m starting to lose my patience, and the more time I’m wasting playing this cat and mouse game with Hal, the less time I have to save Midge Klump.

I throw my hands down onto the rim of the sink, and I grip on. “Hal, if you don’t come out here, I…..” I have to stop speaking for a minute. Why am I giving into him this way? He enjoyed it when I got all riled up. Whatever I feel right now is feeding him, it’s making my sickness worse. I need to put an end to this. I huff and stare down at the sink, not letting the thought of this stupid goblet seep into my brain. “Do I have to tell you? At this point, you and I both know what I’m capable of.”

** _Yes, darling, _ ** his words send a chill down my spine,  ** _but I have changed since we last did this dance. And so have you. _ **

Out in the real world, the door raps.  _ ALICE! _ someone calls my name….Gladys? My head turns to the door. The pounding increases, the door shakes and wriggles. More voices chime in,  _ ALICE, OPEN THE DOOR! WHAT’S GOING ON? LET HER GO, YOU SICK FREAK! _

** _Already resorting to knights in shining armor? Ha! _ ** His voice goes into the same tone his doppelganger of me used. This is a waste of time. Forget the cup, I could care less of whether or not it’s poison…..or even the blood of that girl. I rock back on my heels, they’re glued to the floor. My legs are frozen. I’m stuck staring at my reflection in the mirror. I raise a hand and run my fingers through my hair. I lower my hand…..my reflection keeps her hand by her face. The panicked frown turns into a smile.

I step back. He’s in the mirror. He’s using my reflection to get to me.  ** _Look at yourself_ ** , he announces, using my reflection as a Barbie doll. The reflection tosses her hair over her shoulders with a grimacing smile. Her eyes are glowing in such a menacing way.  ** _Your age is showing. The bottle blonde is fading. You can’t go anywhere without crying or pressing your woes onto others. You try to fix others because you can’t fix yourself. _ ** My jaw tenses up. The others outside are still screaming for me, begging for him to open the door, for me to ignore what he’s saying. I could use magic to run. I could yank him out with just a spell. But I don’t do anything. I can’t say anything back….everything Hal just said is true. But it still stings. 

** _You are broken, Alice._ ** The reflection of me develops something coming out of the side…..wait. It’s him. My own hands shake. My legs find the strength to stumble backwards. He stands to the side of my reflection, placing his hand under her chin. “But I can fix you. I can make you whole again.” Without skipping a beat, Hal turns my reflection to face him and kisses her.

My stomach forms knots. I have to get out of here. “You’re sick, Hal.” I spit out. I don’t want to watch this, but I can’t take my eyes off of the mirror, off of him. Luckily, the door is still shaking. The others are waiting for me. I finally break my eyes away from this disgusting sight and make a run for the door. 

Is it just me or is the room stretching away from me? My worldview is tilting sideways. The doorway is backing away from me like one of those nightmare scenes from an episode of  _ Goosebumps _ . The lights go crazy again, the sound of the world outside this bathroom fades. What is he doing to me?

** _They won’t fix you, sweetheart. You’ve known that since high school. _ ** He’s behind me, I can feel his voice from behind me. I keep my gaze at the door, fighting every urge to turn around and see what he has for me.  ** _And yet you keep running back to those mortals. Over and over and OVER. _ ** My breathing intensifies. I have to start thinking of nonverbal spells that can get me out of here, but none are coming to my head. ** _ There’s something you want to get rid of, Alice. Something that makes you feel crummy inside. Something you haven’t been able to cure since you left Riverdale. _ ** My neck straightens. How does he know about my sickness? Of course, no shit, Alice. He was the one who made you sick in the first place. And he made me sick again tonight, all because of….

“Where’s the girl, Hal?” I can barely raise my voice. “What did you do to her?”

** _I can save you, Alice. The way I’m saving my new witch. The way I saved all the witches before you. _ **

Other witches…. There were other witches that Hal blindsided before he got his hands on me? Oh no….now it’s starting to make sense. The witches Hiram’s mother grew up with, the ones from the time of the Reaper. They didn’t just flee town because of the Blossoms. They didn’t just flee town because of accusations and destruction of their reputations. They fled because of Hal. 

** _We were destined to make Riverdale fall to its knees. You and Me. You can never escape this place, because you can never escape from me. I am Riverdale. The Blossoms and the Pickenses may have built Riverdale, but I made this town. I am everything this town loves, hides, and fears. _ **

So he was there during the Reaper. He sat there and let the chaos ensued. And maybe he used a witch to help enact his plans. But wait…..if he had other witches, maybe one in the 60s, does that….. Does that mean….

My fingers curl into fists. One foot baby steps in a circle, then another. “Who let you out of that house? Who did you latch onto?”

** _A reckoning is coming to Riverdale, Alice. It’s been dormant for too long, and now it’s exposing the town for all the secrets it’s buried. _ **

“GIVE ME A NAME, HAL.” My strength is coming back full force. Magic runs in my veins, it builds in a tight fist. I have to be ready for what is waiting behind my back. I channel the energy I had when Hiram revealed his witchcraft to me. My head is down on the floor. I don’t want to look him in the eye. 

“WHO IS IT?” He just laughs. 

** _A reckoning is coming….. _ ** He repeats himself. Silence overtakes the bathroom for a period of time. All I can hear is the sound of my own breathing. Then, like being under a spell, my head lifts up. A looming shadow of black hovers over me, a figure that has haunted me for years. His eyes glow. His sharp teeth glimmer. There’s something in his hand, it’s tilting in my direction.  ** _And that reckoning IS ME. _ **

The dark liquid flies at me. It burns my skin, it warps my vision. I open my mouth to scream, but no noise comes out. The room spins, the shadow disperses across what I can still see. Everything goes black, then grey, then…. Faces appear, ones that I’ve never seen, backing into corners, begging for their lives, screaming for God. They run down streets, they’re slashed open to where blood colors their clothes. Wait….those clothes look like they….

The scene cuts to crowds screaming for justice, demanding for answers. There’s a group facing the crowd. One person in that group stands out, one with bright red hair and a grim smirk on her face. What I see cuts to another face, one comforting his wife and children…..

_ MARY ELLEN, GET BACK UPSTAIRS AND KEEP THE KIDS SAFE _ , someone cries. I’m still staring at this man….why does he look so familiar? The scene goes at this man, this family….

I’m in the eyes of someone else, someone breathing heavily. The man’s wife backs away from the door frame. A scowl comes out of the body I’m in. She’s scared, she’s silently begging for her life. For her family’s lives.  _ MARY ELLEN? OH GOD….. OH GOD, PLEASE DON’T KILL HER.  _ ** _JIM, RUN!_ **

A shot rings out. The woman falls to the floor, blood escaping from where she was shot. The figure I’m in turns and stomps towards….

I’ve seen that face. I’ve seen him and his family in every single book I’ve read on this town. In every article I’ve pulled up, everything I studied in high school. I’m not witnessing the random murder of a no-named man and his wife. It’s Jim Conway. I’m reliving the Conway Massacre. I’m in the body of the Riverdale Reaper.

Jim runs to the kitchen to grab for a knife, but it’s too late. My figure guns down Jim, it lets out a menacing laugh. My eyesight blurs, the coloring of this world goes red. Above me, children scream for their parents. The figure lets out a huff, then it makes its way up the staircase, kicking a dead Mary Ellen Conway to the side. The kids’ frightful noises get louder the closer it gets. No…..no no no. I know how this ends, but I can’t watch this anymore, I have to get out of this body. Why is Hal showing me this? Why is he making me watch…..

The police could never find the Reaper. The group Rose Blossom led had been accused of killing an innocent person. The killer never formally got caught because…. The killer wasn’t human at all.

A door opens behind me. I come out of the horrendous replay of Riverdale’s history, landing on my ass back in the hallway. A black mist rolls out from the bathroom as I watch the door shut. I’m crying blood, I can’t stop screaming. I can’t get the images of those dead bodies out of my head. From a distance a low voice calls my name. I stare up at the hallway ceiling. My head throbs, everything gets blurry around me, blood builds up in my throat. My limbs bob up and down. I could go into a seizure. Someone comes over and forces my upper body upright. The voices float in and out of my consciousness.

_ We’re gonna lose her. Calm down, Jones. Just give me a minute. Witch, can you hear us? What happened in there? Don’t bombard her with questions. What’s taking you so long? GET HER BACK! _

Something rests on my forehead. Music fills my ears, like it did the night I found my name in the Book. This time around, it’s something out of  _ The Nutcracker _ , that duet piece with the fairy and her boyfriend. A modulated voice whispers under the music playing. The colors displaying in my head go from dark red to a soft blue. My limbs calm down. The ache in my head fades. My fingers curl, I can bend my legs.

The music dies out, my vision clears up again. I only now notice the hand cupping my face. Hiram smiles down at me, lifting his forehead away from mine. “Hey.” he mutters to me. The soft gesture causes me to return a grin. From the corners of my eyes, Gladys and FP appear. Gladys kneels down and helps to get me sitting straight. My eyes go back to the bathroom door, the black mist having gone. My grin fades. Tears form in my eyes. Images of what I just saw flood back into my head.

“Jesus, Ali,” FP sighs. “The hell went down in there?” I’m silent to the bone. I can feel my heartbeat pick up. Jim and Mary Ellen….. The kids….. The gunshots ringing out in the night….. Something comes out of my throat, I didn’t realize how loud the noise was until the others turn to me. Hot tears stream down my cheeks. 

“Alice?” Hiram brings his thumb towards my eye to wipe away a newly formed tear. I choke on my own sobs for a moment, struggling to get words even out of my mouth. I’m still so in shock, but I have to face the facts. I have to wake myself up to the truth.

“The Riverdale Reaper….” I finally speak, sounding frail and weak. FP and Gladys send each other worried looks. Hiram removes his hand from my face, still keeping his hand on the small of my back so I don’t go backward. I swallow back another choke before I tell the group, “Hal was the Riverdale Reaper. He murdered the Conways.”

The hallway goes quiet. I don’t blame the others for not saying anything right away. Hearing the words leave my mouth bothers me too. In fact, what I witnessed will most likely haunt me for a while. But how could I have been so blind? Hal lurking around the Conways when I found him all those years ago makes more sense. He wouldn’t want anyone besides a witch there because he claims that house as a trophy. He saw the Conways as prey, and he tore the town apart, just because he could. Is that why Howard went crazy? Could he not piece together that the Conways’ Grim Reaper really was a creature of the supernatural? A devil in disguise?

Hiram sneaks his hand around my waist. With a swift motion, he and Gladys get me back onto my feet. I release more sobs, glaring at the door in agony. I could care less about bringing down Hal now. All I want to do is find Sabrina and go back to the trailer. Or back to Pembrooke with Hiram. I don’t care where I go. Anywhere is better than here.

Gladys brings her hand to one side of my shoulders. “You saw it? The whole thing?” she begs the question. “You saw him?”

“I was in him!” I whine. “He got away with it! And now he’s….he’s going to get away with killing so many others….” my voice gives out. Gladys rests her head against mine and squeezes my hand. She reminds me to breathe, daisies and candles, over and over. FP marches over to the bathroom door. He reaches for the handle, then he bounces back with a yelp. He shakes his hand out in front of him. A bright red line forms on his hand, it sizzles and seeps into his skin.

FP slams his fist into the door. “Damn it, Hal! Where is she? Where’s Midge Klump?”

Almost as if on cue, a high-pitched scream echoes from far away. It sounds like a young girl. Young….. Oh no. Where is that scream coming from? More screams join in, all adding into the hysteria.

“Oh Lucifer.” Hiram comments. “It’s coming from the gymnasium.” 

Gladys lifts her head up and stares down the hallway. “What does that mean?” The screams grow louder, they sound incoherent and scattered. Some beg for help. Some wish to have never seen what they just saw. Some want to go home. But there’s only one consistent element in their pleas. One person who was supposed to be cheering on that field with Sabrina and Veronica.

“Midge.”

XXXXXXXX

**SABRINA**

My feet float in the air. They barely touch the linoleum when V and I run to catch up to Moose. Air goes in and out of me rapidly. The hallways leading into the school wind on forever. Why does the school feel so foreign to me this late at night?

Moose is nowhere in sight. How did he get ahead of us so quickly? “Moose?” I hear my own voice ring out in the darkness. V follows in suit, “Moose, where are you?” Nothing comes back in response. We both try again, but we’re unsuccessful.

V and I have to stop in our path to catch our breaths. We let go of each other's hands and rest against a set of lockers. V scans the hallway for any signs of Moose or Midge. “You sense anything, ‘Brina?” I take a second to tap back into my witchcraft. I focus on Moose and Midge’s auras, seeing whether it radiates anywhere besides the girls locker room. I can’t pick up on either of them, but….. I turn back to V and shake my head at her.

What I don’t tell her is that I’m picking up on something else all together. A group of auras by one of the bathrooms around the other side of the school. One aura is familiar to me, but I can’t focus on who or what it could be…. Salem, maybe? Would Salem even have an aura? The colors are blending together, and I can’t make out who anyone is.

V gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “We’ll get them to safety, okay?” I know she’s trying to act reassuring, I don’t blame her for wanting to stay optimistic about the situation. But I’m tired of false promises. I’m sick of being left out of the loop. I just want closure.

I give her a silent nod and push myself away from the lockers. I can wallow on my guilt later. Right now, I need to retrace my steps if V and I have any chance in saving Midge. I start to think out loud, “I last saw her in the locker room stalls. Salem possessed her to keep her behind, the way…..the way the Dark Lord did. If Salem kept Midge in that stall…”

“Then Moose may already be there.” V catches my drift. She tightens her grip on my hand, and she leads the way for us. We sprint down to the other end of the hallway, getting closer to the locker rooms. Other voices from somewhere else interrupt our journey. V gasps, “Wait….” We pause right around the corner, staying as far out of view as possible.

The voices come and go.  _ What the hell are we waiting for? Let’s go get him! Wait, guys, where’s Alice? Wasn’t she behind you? I thought she was… Lodge, slow down! Alice? Alice! _

We both stay there in shock. Aunt Ali’s here? And is that Jughead’s parents? V’s father? She leans her head out. “Daddy?” she whispers. She brings her head back and lets it fall back onto the locker door. She reaches for her pearls, almost like she’s trying to scratch it off. Does V think her father intentionally left her performance? No…. no, I saw him with Ali. He was there in the stadiums. Something happened to Ali, something bad….

“I think he would have been proud of you, V.” I now act as the comfort here for the two of us. V huffs and lets go of her pearls. She blinks at me in sadness. “I really think he did want to see you cheer tonight. Ali did too. I don’t want to think they ditched out on purpose. I think something happened, V.”

That causes V to lose the gloomy expression. She releases my hand. “‘Brina, what are you talking about?”

I step away from the lockers and place my hands on her shoulders. “Ali’s sick! I think she may have what I got. I don’t know how exactly she would have contracted it.” Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. Does she not believe me? I have to number off on my fingers when I explain, “She gets nose bleeds the same way I do. And she gets nauseous every time Salem is around. I mean, I haven’t felt sick around Salem, but….but something’s not right, V. It’s like we…..we have almost identical symptoms.” 

“Was she feeling this way when you were back in Greendale?” V finds her words. I have to pause for a moment to think about the question…. Did Ali ever show symptoms of a sickness back home? She always seemed to pick up when I felt under the weather, or suffering from a hex. Yet, I never returned the gesture. Was she just good at hiding it, or was it…..was it never an issue in Greendale?

I look V in the eyes. “Come to think about it, V….I don’t think this all started happened until….” I don’t know exactly how to phrase it, so I just pause mid-sentence. But V must have picked up on what I said, because she finishes the sentence for me.

“Not until Salem appeared.”

Footsteps thump in the distance. We both turn our heads towards the source of the noise. The adults again? Salem? We both blink through the darkness….it’s the Vixens. They’re all rushing over to the locker rooms, hoping that they can share the news of their performance to….

“NO. OH, GOD, NO! MIDGE!” A lone voice hollers in tears. The Vixens hear the scream, and they all hurry over to the source of the noise.

I remain frozen in my place, only turning my head to V in a panic. She gives me a similar expression of fear. “Moose.” we both say at the same time. Then, we join hands and sprint down to where the Vixens are running.

There’s too many people in this part of the hallway that I can’t see what’s going on. It’s so packed that we can’t move. Anxiety is building in all of us. Moose’s wails overpower the noise. Are we too late? Did Salem have his revenge and flee without coming to me first? Where would he have gone? WHAT DID HE DO TO HER----

My hand trembles. Then, it suddenly goes numb. My whole arm numbs up, I can’t feel a thing. My eyes water at the uncomfortable sensation. One half of my face loses sense of feeling. Blood trickles down my nose, and I can’t lift my hand up to stop it from so. My brain is a blank slate. What is happening to me?

“‘Brina?” V shakes my shoulder. “‘Brina?”

“I….” I choke out, and by now, I’m quietly sobbing. “I can’t feel my arm, V. Why can’t I feel my arm?” A dull ache enters my head. The tears coming out of my eyes are blood red, they platter onto my white cheer sneakers. I stare down at my numb arm. I’m panicking, I want movement and feeling back in my arm, and I want to see Midge. 

One Vixen lets out a blood-curling scream. It snaps my body back to life. Another Vixen screams. I dig my nails into V’s outer knuckles, I drag her through a sea of freaked-out Vixens. All of our teammates are backing away in fear, sobbing and crying, some call their mothers or fathers to come and get them. One calls for the police.

My pace quickens, I practically shove girls out of the way to get through to where…..

Ginger and Tina stand next to me and V in horror. Moose is on the floor wailing. And what I find is….is something out of a nightmare. No….this makes nightmares. A lifeless, bloody, Midge is pinned by mirror shards and knives to the lockers, almost exactly like Jesus on his cross. Blood seeps out of the wounds in her hands, her stomach…. And on the floor, written in her blood, lays a message for all to see.

** _I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD. ALL OF THOSE WHO GET IN MY WAY WILL DIE. _ **

** _P.S. - THE RIVERDALE REAPER IS NO MORE. CALL ME THE BLACK HOOD._ **

Voices pick up from behind.  _ The Reaper is back! How is this possible? No, not Midge!  _ I can only mutter so low as I stare at Midge’s corpse in tears, “Salem, what did you do?”

XXXXXXXX

** _End of Chapter Twelve_ **

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sound the alarms. The Black Hood/Riverdale Reaper lives (look, I know they're separate people on the show, but hey, it's fanfiction). But who will he make his next target? HMMMMMMM?
> 
> Have a good Memorial Day Weekend, loves.


	14. *QUICK ANNOUNCEMENT (NOT NEW CHAPTER)*

Hello dear readers!

I know you're patiently waiting for the next chapter of Unheavenly Creatures, and I cannot wait to unfold the next layer of the story.

I've come to a bit of a realization. This story is sooooo huge and so dense, that I'm worried that it may be too much to place all the chapters into one long fanfic. So, I've made a decision....

DRUM ROLL PLEASE!

...

...

...

I'M GOING TO MAKE A PART TWO TO UNHEAVENLY CREATURES! Cue the party music!

So what does that mean?

I plan on posting the remainder of the tale onto a brand new work (still the same story and same characters, just split into two parts). It'll pick up essentially after Midge's death, and Part Two will begin with the chapter I posted most recently. So, if you go through this part and don't see the newest chapter, don't freak out! It's just moved to the beginning of...

And this is the exciting part, so I hope you're ready....

...

...

...

** _AWAKENING!_ **

EEEEE!

I cannot wait to expand this little universe! Thank you for the constant support as always! Stay safe, and happy reading!

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO!
> 
> It's here! The epic crossover is here! I'm so excited to start this journey with yal, and I hope you're just as invested as I am!
> 
> Regarding the posting of chapters, I might have to space it out due to schoolwork and the amount I still have to write for this story. So, anticipate probably a week or two in between each chapter. But never fear, it will get done!
> 
> Thank you all, and Enjoy! :)


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